Disclaimer: ATLA is the property of Nickelodeon, VIACOM, Paramount, Mike, Bryan, and Night. No profit is made by me for this story.
Notes: Wow, there has been a great outpouring of support for this story. Once again I've been asked if I write for the show, and I'm sad to say that this is not the case. (Hi guys, if you're reading this. Feel free to confirm that I never worked on the show, it being finished and all.)
Thanks: Everyone who has produced art, done icons, contributed quotes, promoted this fic at LJ and dA, and in general made this story so much fun to work on. Thanks to Fishy701 and MillyMonka for their new art!
A cathedral, a wave of storm, a dancer's leap, never turn out to be as high as we had hoped. - Marcel Proust
According to the map Piandao had given them, the ladder within the main plumbing conduit extended as far as a sub-basement with access to the tunnels connected to the bunker and the Catacombs. Luckily, Katara and Zuko didn't need to go that far down; they stopped at the floor marked "throne room," and hopped down onto steel grating. Another panel with peepholes allowed them to check inside for guards, but they saw none lurking in the shadows.
Nor did they see a throne. "Is the map wrong?" Katara asked.
"No," Zuko said. "We're on the right floor, just in the wrong room." He knelt, pressed the panel, and ushered Katara through. Then he stepped through and slid the panel down. Lighting a small fire in his palm, he exposed stack upon stack of scroll cabinets, and long worktables in glossy, dark wood. A particularly wizened old Fire Lord stood watch over the room in the form of a long wall hanging. He clutched scrolls in both arms.
"Is this a library?"
"Yes," Zuko said. "It's where you wait before talking to the Fire Lord. Now I know why." He jerked his head at the peephole-riddled panel behind them. On this side of the panel, the holes were cleverly worked into a mural of birds in a tree. From outside the room, the Fire Lord could observe all his visitors and hear their plans before they entered his chamber.
"You know, you people are really paranoid."
"Only for good reason," Zuko said, moving past sofas and toward a door. He listened at it for a moment before backing away. "This isn't good," he said. "We aren't facing the entrance to the throne room directly. There are bound to be guards waiting for us there once we turn the corner. If they see us, we're dead."
"Can't we just knock them out?"
"They still might see us, and tell everyone when they woke up. And even if they didn't see us, they'd have to report what happened. Azula will suspect us right away."
Katara bit her lip. "So what you're saying is that we have to knock them out, make it look totally natural, and be invisible at the same time?"
Zuko nodded. "That's about it."
She winced. "I don't suppose they'd open the door for the Painted Lady, would they?" She sat down on a sofa and stared at the surrounding scrolls. Zuko's flame wove past her vision, illuminating the titles: Firebending and Childbirth, Master Gei Ren's Anatomy of the Healthy Firebender. A grin stretched across her features. She snapped her fingers. "That's it!"
"Really? Where will you get red facepaint?"
"Sparky, please." Katara stood. "I know what to do. Let's go."
"How many?" Katara asked.
Zuko slipped back from around the corner and hugged the wall. "Two."
"Awake?"
"Mostly. One keeps nodding."
Katara grit her teeth. "If this doesn't work, we'll have to get back into the tunnels and head for the river."
"Don't think about that. Just do what you have to do." Zuko smiled. "I know you can do this. Just go for it."
She felt herself smiling back before she could stop herself. It was one thing when your dad or your brother or your friends believed in you. It was something else entirely when that belief came from someone who used to try lashing you with fire-whips. The floor beneath her feet suddenly felt much steadier. She sighed and edged along the wall until the line of torchlight where the shadows ended. She caught a quick peek at the guards: two, like Zuko said, and the one on the right was almost asleep. She pulled back, raised her arms, and closed her eyes.
The blood in their bodies responded immediately. She concentrated on the wakeful one – his friend wouldn't notice him slowly crumpling to the floor – and focused on his neck. Akna had taught her the crucial veins and arteries. Twitching her fingers, Katara cut off the circulation in the two proper passages. Sweat prickled on her hairline as she held it. Her fingers ached and she thought she felt the ghost of struggle in his body, but then he slipped down into sleep. The other guard was simple after that, just a mere flick of the fingers and he succumbed.
"Outstanding," Zuko murmured.
Pain and stars exploded behind her eyes, but Zuko was taking her hand and guiding her through curtains and into a room that was like a forest, so thick it was with spiked pillars and sconces. She blinked and saw the outlines of an immense golden dragon in the light thrown by Zuko's shaking flame. He was on a dais, feeling around inside a covered seat.
"Is this-"
Zuko held a single finger up to his lips, peeled back a cushion, and sent fire blazing from his hand. Something clicked, and then he was pulling open the whole throne. He gestured. Still dizzy, Katara tried crawling up the dais, but Zuko just grabbed her hand and pulled her. Reeling, she stared into what appeared to be a large, dark hole.
"You first," he said.
"What? You-"
Outside, someone said: "Did you fall asleep?" And that was all the encouragement she needed; she hopped down into the hole-
-and quickly discovered it was a slide. She covered her mouth to keep from yelping. Behind her, the trapdoor in the throne clicked shut before she heard Zuko's clothes whispering along the walls behind her. In the total darkness, she could only sense her body coasting vaguely upward before the slide abruptly ended in another trap door and spat her out. She landed on her knees. Zuko came crashing in behind and she collapsed face-down. On top of her, Zuko was breathing hard. "So," he said. "We're here."
"I can't breathe."
"Oh! Sorry." Zuko rolled off her and summoned a small fireball. The dancing light exposed a flight of stairs leading upward, and on the opposite wall, a great circular golden door carved with a dragon whose body had tied itself in an elaborate knot. The dragon's mouth yawned open, not unlike the massive dragon behind Ozai's throne.
"Does everything here have to have a dragon on it?" Katara asked.
Zuko was examining the door. He stood on his toes and peered inside the dragon's mouth. "Uncle said we had to shoot lightning into this thing."
"That's your department," Katara said.
He shook his head. "My lightning's not that precise, yet. If I miss and burn the door, Ozai will know someone was here." He looked around them. "Uncle said to use stormbending to open the door, but there's no water…"
Katara made a pfft noise. "There's plenty of water," she said, and bent some away from Zuko's forehead. The sweat made a glittering disc in her palm. "You got any more where that came from?"
Zuko smirked. "I'll do my best." He rolled his neck, and started doing squats. Katara began running in place. She only hoped Ozai didn't notice the smell, the next time he visited.
"Where'd you learn this trick?" Zuko asked, popping up and puffing fire before squatting down.
"Jail," Katara said.
Fire flared from his mouth. "What did you steal?"
"Nothing! I wasn't stealing!"
"…Was this when you tried to swindle that town out of Toph's bounty?"
"It wasn't swindling. Well, okay, it was swindling, but it totally backfired, which only proves that we shouldn't have tried in the first place because it's wrong."
"…You know you can't just steal Fire Nation artefacts, right?"
Katara quit running. Panting, she said: "Shut up and take your shirt off." There was the softest hint of laughter, and something warm and damp hit her in the face. She let it drop to the ground. "I need your sweat, not your sweaty clothes."
Fire blossomed in his hand. It was enough to show the sweat in rivulets from his temples, down his collarbone. "Well? Is this enough?"
Katara gulped. "I think so." Raising her hands, she lifted the sweat from him like a veil. With one hand, she added her own sweat, bending it free of her clothes and her hair. She spun the two fluids together into one smelly ball of water, and then carefully added the dampness from Zuko's shirt. It only marginally increased the size of the ball, but every little bit helped. She raised her eyes. "You ready?"
He assumed a bending posture. The fire snuffed out. She heard him in the dark: "Now?"
"Now."
They moved. In the dark she could really only hear him, but that was enough: there was his breathing and the shift of his clothes and the dig of his boots in the floor. She spun the water, wove it in and out. Their hands brushed and they laughed and a moment later the lightning came to life between them, blue and sharp and bright, and it illuminated his face bright as daylight. They sucked in breath and he added the lightning to the water and she shot it straight for the dragon. Light vanished down the golden beast's throat. There was a click and a heavy groan, a shuddering creak. They were breathing fast when Zuko lit a fire, held it out. The door had swung open. And inside was the Fire Lord's treasure.
Katara walked forward hesitantly. Past that door were sacks of gold, piles of scrolls, enamelled urns, suits of ancient armor, lumps of jade sculpture, and jewelled weapons hanging from the walls. Then Zuko blasted quick fire at the vault's sconces and the sparkle left odd dots of refracted light on every surface. "Wow."
Zuko bent and picked up his shirt. He gestured. "After you."
Katara stepped into the vault and continued staring. Behind her, she heard Zuko pull the door closed and start pulling on his shirt. Her brain felt too full staring at the wealth stacked before her: it was surprisingly disorganized and her eyes couldn't decide on which direction to look. Then at the far side of the room, a dressmaker's dummy in a golden robe caught her eye. The dummy wore a headdress like the Painted Lady's hat, but strings of tiny rubies hung from the brim. Scarlet thread interrupted the gold silk of the robe's topmost layer; someone had embroidered it with dragons and phoenixes. "What is this?"
"My mother's wedding clothes," Zuko said. Katara stepped back, instantly afraid that she would somehow damage the robes. She bumped into Zuko, who didn't move. "I've only ever seen the portrait, before," he said.
"They're beautiful…"
"You can touch them, you know."
She shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'll mess them up."
"Just be gentle."
Carefully, Katara reached out and traced one finger over a dragon on the robe's surface. She turned. "You don't think your dad comes down here and, like, dances with this dummy, do you?"
Zuko grimaced. "Well, I didn't think so until now…"
"Sorry." She contemplated the robes again. "It's a really special outfit," she said, by way of apology. "I mean, it's sad that things didn't work out, but I know your mom must have looked amazing that day. I bet all the other guys were really jealous of your dad."
He smiled. "I guess."
"No, I'm sure they were. Girls know these things, Zuko."
"You mean like how a leopard-shark knows when another one is swimming in its territory?"
"Haha. Very funny, Zuko." She rolled her eyes and moved away from the robes. She pointed. "You take the scrolls. I'll check this cabinet."
His good eyebrow lifted. "…Okay." He wandered over in the direction of the scrolls.
Katara turned toward the cabinet. It was slender and ornate; someone had carved its surface with birds. She opened the narrow doors and saw jewels. She saw lots of jewels, to be precise. The left half of the cabinet seemed devoted to necklaces and hair pins alone, the other to bangles and cuffs in gold and copper. When she pulled drawers open, she saw rings and hair sticks and funny little jade eggs of varying size.
"I really don't think that's where Ozai keeps the plans for his secret weapon," Zuko said.
Katara flushed. "You never know! There could be a secret drawer!"
"There is a secret drawer. It's the one with the eggs. Press the back and it pops open."
"Well, why didn't you just say so?"
"Because the only thing that's back there is-"
"A golden seal and a little dragon toy?"
Zuko dropped his scroll. "Let me see those." He crossed the room and stared into Katara's hand. The seal was pure gold, and featured a bear with one paw raised. When Zuko flipped it over, Katara saw the raised imprint of a bear's paw there. "This is her seal. This is how she signed her personal letters." He picked up the little dragon. Its paint had mostly worn off, but Katara saw flecks of blue still clinging to the steel. "I had no idea she kept this."
"Did it belong to you?"
He nodded. "Before Uncle gave me my dagger, it was my favorite." He sighed. "There were two. Azula broke the red one." He crouched down. Katara followed. She watched him tenderly take hold of the dragon's tail and wind it slowly. Then he set it on the floor. It sped off noisily until it hit the nearest wall. Katara laughed. Then she looked at Zuko's face, and the laugh died. He pressed his lips together and swallowed, stared at the little toy with its wheels still spinning uselessly against the wall.
There were a lot of things to say, like I miss my mom, too, or It'll be okay or We have a job to do. But there was also a feeling in her chest like her heart slowly expanding, and it made talking difficult. So she said: "Can I try?"
He startled. "Um, sure." He leaned over and picked up the toy. "Be careful; the point on the tail is sharp."
Katara nodded. "It goes this way, right?"
"Right." He watched her winding the toy. She set it down gently on the floor; it sped away again.
"Sokka never let me play with his toys," she said. "He said they were only for boys. Our dad used to make our toys, but then he went away and there weren't any more new ones." She smiled. "Sokka had this doll, and it carried a spear, and its arms moved." She held one hand near her mouth, as though telling a secret. She whispered: "I used to make his doll and my doll play house."
Zuko smiled. "I won't tell." He reached over and grabbed the toy again. He stood and deposited the seal and the toy back in the drawer. Katara stood, and they began to shut the jewelry cabinet. Then a glimmer of blue caught her eye, and she stopped.
"What's that?"
Zuko lifted the necklace from its hook with one finger. He balanced the stone in his other palm. It was a large pear-shaped blue stone, the size of an Earth Kingdom gold ingot. It sat on a string of pearls. "It's a sky opal," he said. "The Air Nomads used to trade them. This is an antique." He tilted the stone in his hand. "See, it's like yours. When you move it, it changes color." He tilted it again and Katara saw rising waves of orange and violet inside the stone.
"Like a sunset!"
"Thus the name."
"…Mine doesn't do that."
"It does a little bit. You tilt it one way and you can see all the layers." Katara gave him a frown and he shrugged. "I had it for a long time."
"This one is way prettier," Katara said, staring again at the necklace.
"You can have it."
Her jaw dropped. "What?"
"If I get to be Fire Lord, I'll give it to you."
"You mean it?"
"I mean it." He cleared his throat. "It's only fair, right? I had your necklace for a while. And you should have a thank-you gift. For everything you've done."
"Does that mean Sokka and Toph and Aang get presents, too?"
"Oh, um…sure." He jerked a thumb over at the scrolls. "I'll just give Toph back her family's land. We sort of, um, took some of it a long time ago." He began putting the necklace away. "I guess we should keep looking for clues."
Katara nodded. "Right." She moved from the cabinet to a bureau that appeared full of odd bolts of silk and very old, arcane instruments in jade and turtle-duck shell – a magnifying glass, an astrolabe and an abacus, a kind of flute. Digging through them all offered no reward, however. She tested the bottom of the bureau for secret compartments, but found none. Tugging a nearby tapestry did yield results, however: the rug at her feet pulled back to expose another circular door, this one in the floor.
"That goes to the Catacombs," Zuko said.
Katara knelt and pulled the rug back into place. "Have you found anything in those scrolls that looks like a plan?"
"No," Zuko said. "They're all marriage records and land deeds. And final proclamations."
"Nothing even remotely incriminating?"
Zuko unfurled a scroll. "Fire Lord Rizu left a whole house on Ember Island to his pet dragon-hawk."
"That's generous."
Zuko replaced the scroll. "Maybe they hid it inside a really boring-looking scroll so no one would be tempted to look."
Katara nodded. She started with feeling inside the suits of armor. Nothing was there but dust. Wrinkling her nose, she opened the colourful urns and found black, sandy ashes waiting for her. "Um, do you think…?"
Zuko looked as though he might be ill. "Azula could have hidden the plans there…"
Katara looked away. "You should do this. This used to be one of your ancestors, not mine."
Zuko gave her a look highly reminiscent of a wet pygmy puma, then stood up. "Fine, but you take the scrolls."
"Gladly." Katara moved over to the scrolls, but found herself unable to truly examine them. Watching Zuko slowly roll up his sleeve and, cringing, insert his hand into the urn was a lot more interesting. And digusting. She found she couldn't quite look away. She watched a shiver go through him as he plunged his hand in further.
He paused. "My ancestor's spirit is going to haunt me for this. I just know it."
Privately, Katara suspected this might actually be true. You didn't just go rooting around in someone's ashes and expect it all to be okay afterward. Zuko hadn't even asked for forgiveness from whomever – or whatever -- might be listening before sticking his hand inside the urn. But making him feel worse wouldn't help. She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Zuuuuko, I am the ghost of your great great grand-uncle Waaaang-"
Zuko dissolved into suppressed laughter. "Don't make me laugh; I'll spill it everywhere." He paused. "Why is this even here? This isn't where we normally keep our ashes."
"Maybe it's Fire Lord Rizu's pet dragon-hawk," Katara said. "It is kind of a small urn."
"Great. I'm going to be haunted by a ghostly dragon-hawk. Fantastic."
"Maybe if you offer it some mice…?"
Zuko rolled his eyes heavenward and said: "Aren't you supposed to be looking at the scrolls?"
"Sorry." Katara turned her attention to the scrolls and began pulling one out. Then another, and another. Zuko was right; they were all family trees and birth certificates. At least, from what she could tell: most of them used the archaic, classical script characteristic of official Fire Nation documents. She could sound out the names, and the characters for family relationships hadn't changed, but everything beyond that read like gibberish. Nothing, however, seemed like a diagram or plan for a weapon. She saw layouts for homes, old ships, and one very thick scroll containing multiple maps for the whole palace: rooms, passages, plumbing, pneumatic tubes for locking and unlocking doors, everything. But she saw nothing that might relate to the weapon.
"I don't think the plans are here," she said. "Where else would your dad keep them?"
"Maybe in his room," Zuko said. He pulled his hand free of the urn and tried shaking the ashes free. "Or Azula's. Or maybe there's a whole other room we don't even know about."
"I don't think so," Katara said. She unfurled the palace scroll. "These plans show the whole palace from top to bottom. There aren't any other secret rooms."
"So if it's not here, then it has to be wherever they're keeping the Mechanist."
Katara nodded. "That would make sense. He'd need access to his plans in order to complete them, right? I just thought Ozai would have a copy lying around somewhere." She remembered the crackle of candy wrappers and winced. "Or maybe he got a good look and burned the evidence?"
Zuko nodded. "They both hate leaving loose ends. I was almost one of them."
Katara sighed. "But where do you think the Mechanist could be?"
"Somewhere he'd have lots of room to work, and lots of people to help him," Zuko said. "If this weapon is anything like the drill or the war balloon, we're talking about something on a massive scale."
Goosebumps rose on Katara's arms. She hugged them. What could Ozai possibly have planned for the Southern Water Tribe? Grappling hooks that could rip the glaciers apart? Some sort of nasty poison bomb that would kill all the animals and eliminate the food supply? "What if it's already on its way?"
"What?"
"We saw that fleet headed south. What if it's too late?"
Zuko shook his head. He crouched on his haunches. "You can't think like that. Even if the weapon is on its way, we still have a chance to get your people the information they need to protect themselves from it." He firmed his lips. "Right now we have to think about where the Mechanist would be. I think the best bet is the prison tower."
Katara pursed her lips and nodded. She looked around the vault. "Do you think we can make it to the tower by tonight?"
He stood. "No. We can't. We have to do it tomorrow night." His eyes narrowed. "And we have to figure out a way to get there without being seen."
They continued searching the vault for clues, but found none. Finally, when Katara asked him how much time he thought had passed, Zuko threw down a sack of gold in frustration and said: "Too long." He stalked out of the vault and she followed. "Do you think you can put them to sleep again, once we get out?" he asked.
"Sure," Katara said. She looked up at the trapdoor. "But, um, how do we get up there?"
Zuko craned his neck backward to look up. Then he looked down at her. "Get on my shoulders."
She took a step away. "Are you joking?"
"You're not tall enough to make the jump." He opened his palms in a conciliatory gesture. "It'll be like with Toph. Only you. On my shoulders. For a minute. And then you can climb up." He coughed. "Unless you have a better idea."
She did not have a better idea, however, which made the situation twice as annoying. Katara folded her arms. "Well, right now my idea is that you should snuff out those sconces and make sure everything's the way we found it. Otherwise your dad will be suspicious the next time he comes down here to have tea with his dummy."
"Will do." Zuko adjusted the urns, tapped a couple of scrolls back into place, and snuffed the sconces. In the sudden darkness, she heard him shutting the vault's immense door. Then he sparked a fire in one hand and knelt under the trapdoor. "Get on."
"Are you sure I'm not too heavy?"
"Will you just get on?"
"Fine." Katara carefully draped herself over his shoulders. It was surprising how warm he could get; she suspected that Toph rather liked having her own personal hot water bottle when Zuko carried her around. "Like this?"
"No, my shoulders. Put your legs around my head." He coughed. "I mean, on both sides of my head."
"But I'll fall off when you stand up!"
"You won't fall off. I promise."
"If I fall, you're getting me a hair pin to match that necklace." She hesitantly placed her feet on either side of Zuko's head. Then he was clamping down on her knees with both hands and standing up, and there was a moment when she was absolutely certain she would fall backward, but he leaned forward to compensate and she merely rocked and ended up gripping his hair in panic.
"Ow!"
"Sorry!" Her hands flew away from his scalp and landed on his mouth and nose.
"Not there, either!"
"I don't know where to put my hands!"
"Use them to find the trapdoor!"
Katara huffed and extended her hands upward. Zuko sighed fire, briefly illuminating the room. She ran her hands over the ceiling until she felt a slit that indicated the trapdoor. Zuko breathed fire again – she was a bit nervous about how close that flame was to her knees – and she tried prying the door open. It wouldn't budge. "It won't open!"
"Try sliding your finger in."
She felt around the trapdoor for a corner and pulled with one finger. The door snapped open reluctantly, hitting her in the nose. "Ow."
"Can you climb up?"
"I can't see."
Zuko blew fire in a steady, measured stream. Katara used the light to peer up into the passage. "Okay. I'm going to try." She reached both arms up, leaned forward, and tried to find a grip. Her hands squeaked along the polished surface of the slide. It felt like steel, but she couldn't find a rivet to cling to. Grunting, she tried anyway – maybe there was one up ahead that she just couldn't see. Her fingernails scraped against metal. "I can't find a foothold!"
"Stand on my hands," Zuko said. "I'll push you."
"I'll hurt your hands."
"You won't hurt them. Just jump when I push."
"…Okay."
Zuko took hold of her feet, his palms warm and slightly damp under them. They trembled under her weight. "On three," he said. "One, two, three!" He pushed. She jumped. For a moment, her hands and feet clung to the sides of the passage. Then she tried moving upward, lost her grip, and slid down in a jumble of limbs that landed on Zuko. He coughed.
"So," she said, staring into the darkness. "We might need another plan."
His voice was in her hair. "Yeah." He didn't move. For just a second, she felt his breath under her. It tickled her neck and she felt the press of his ribs at her back. She wondered if maybe she was hurting him – she had fallen directly on him, after all.
Grunting, Katara lifted herself off him and sat on her knees. "Are you okay? Did I crush you?"
He lit a fire in one hand. The light exposed him lying on the floor; he pushed himself up on his elbows and shook his head. "No. I'm fine."
She glanced to her left. "Where does that stairway go?"
"…Ozai's room."
She hung her head. "Great."
"We can try the trapdoor again."
"No. Maybe you can climb it, but I can't. I mean, you're welcome to try. Maybe you could get up there. You're a lot sneakier than I am."
He shook his head and stood up. "No. I'm going with you."
She offered a tiny smile. "I was kind of hoping you'd say that."
Zuko smiled back and held his hand out. "Let's go."
The stairs leading to Ozai's room grew progressively steeper, and with each step, Katara's tread grew a little heavier. This is a terrible idea. It'll never work. He'll wake up. "What if he wakes up?"
"Bend him back to sleep," Zuko said. "You did it for the other two."
"But what if I can't?"
"You have to." Zuko stopped short. He stood two stairs above her, and this made him seem much taller. "Otherwise he might attack you."
Katara bit her lip. "This would be a lot easier if I could just take his bending away, like Ty Lee."
"You could bend the blood in his arms." A shadow crossed his face. "You could even make him burn himself."
Katara had not considered this. If her bloodbending were strong enough, she wouldn't have to worry about blood vessels or cutting off Ozai's air. She could simply make him hurt himself. She shuddered. It reminded her too much of Hama. "That doesn't seem fair."
"He won't give you time to be fair." Zuko continued up the stairs. "And he doesn't fight fair. He never has."
Katara wanted to ask him what he meant, but the stiffness in his posture told her not to. Soon they were at the door, another circular one, and Zuko was pressing his ear to it. "I can't hear anything," he whispered.
"Do you know which part of the room it opens up to?"
"No. I haven't been in this room in years. He might have changed it." He frowned. "There's a scroll cabinet. Maybe we're behind that."
"Won't Ozai know something's a little weird if he just sees one of his cabinets opening up on its own?"
"If he sees it," Zuko said. He turned. "If he sees us, it's over. We'll have to put a stop to him right here if that happens. Otherwise we'll never make it out alive. And even then, it's a slim chance. We'd have to escape the palace before Azula found us."
"Put a stop to him?" Katara stepped back. "Do you mean what I think you mean?"
"Yes. I do." Zuko put his hand to the door. "We can still go back. We can try going the other way, again."
Katara thought again about the slippery tube leading down to the vault, and how impossible it had been to climb. Her stomach seemed full of wriggling seaslugs. She had no idea how Zuko could possibly be so calm. Maybe because he had faced his father before, and lived to tell about it? But would she be that lucky? What if she panicked? What if it was just like that time by the river, and she turned around and there he was and she just froze?
"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…"
"This whole mission was a bad idea," Zuko said. "But we've made it this far."
"Yeah, because we avoided getting caught!"
"They caught us at the teahouse. They caught us when we ran away under the prison. And we're still here."
Katara folded her arms. "You know, your optimism is kind of scaring me. I'm beginning to think you're not really Zuko."
"I'm not optimistic. I'm never optimistic." Zuko took a step away from the door. Suddenly he seemed to take up the whole tunnel. "On the day of the eclipse, I told Ozai that his destiny would end with the Avatar. But if he attacks either one of us, I will destroy him. Personally."
Katara willed her heart to stop racing. For a moment he had looked so much like his old self that she had to remind herself that she didn't need to brace her feet like that, that he wasn't going to hurt her. "Is that what I sounded like when I told you I would do anything to protect Aang?"
"Yes."
"Wow."
"You're telling me." Zuko sighed steam. "I just want you to know what could happen. He could be asleep. He could attack us. And if he does, I'll be there." He blinked. "Do you know how to get out? You go into the office, down the ladder, and run for the deepest tunnel you can find-"
"Zuko."
"What?"
"Just open the door."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Do it now before I change my mind. Please."
"All right." He took a deep breath, sent fire bursting from his hand, and gently pushed open the door. It made no creak, and opened onto darkness. Katara listened for snoring, and heard none. There was a faint grunt, and the sound of fabric, and then Ozai was walking toward them-
-naked.
Then Zuko's hand was over her eyes and she didn't know whether to laugh or be sick or maybe even start crying, and she heard water in the next room and then Zuko was pulling her out of the room and pushing her into the office. He opened the liquor cabinet, pulled a bottle, opened the trapdoor, and helped her inside. "Slide down!" he said tersely, and she gripped the sides of the ladder with her feet before letting herself go. Zuko followed. She landed on the grate just before him, and he slid open the panel leading to his own room before pushing her inside and pulling the panel down again. They slumped against the wall together.
"So," he said. "That happened."
"It's okay. It wasn't that big. Bad. I mean. It wasn't that bad." Katara buried her face in her hands. Blood throbbed under her skin. "I just said that. Wow. Please don't ever look at me again."
Beside her, Zuko trembled silently. For a moment, she thought he might be crying – his breath came so quickly and he seemed to almost choke on it. Then he slumped to the floor, knees drawn to his chest, and Katara heard laughter. Her humiliation only intensified. Bad enough that Ozai's royal parts were showing. Now Zuko had to laugh at her for tripping on her words. She stood up. "If you're just going to laugh at me-"
"I'm not," Zuko said. He lit a fire in his palm and then he was looking up at her from the floor, eyes wet, and a huge, impossible smile across his face. "I thought he was going to kill us. And then…" He giggled. "And then you said…"
Katara covered her face. "I didn't mean to! It's not like I'd know, anyway!" Her face burned. "I mean, sometimes the women got to talking but it was the winter and the nights are really long-"
"Just the nights?"
Katara's jaw dropped. She bent before she could think, and Zuko's fire snuffed out as she shuttered his mouth with his own hands. Pain blossomed up inside her head but she didn't care. "Shut. Up. I should wash your mouth out."
"Mmm?"
"I could do it, too. I could waterbend the soap straight down your throat."
"Mmm."
"Don't think I won't. Because I will. I will do it."
"Mmm mm?"
"Yes. I will."
"Mmm mmm…"
Katara let his hands go. "Aang's the one who had a dream where your dad had no pants on, anyway."
Fire sparked in Zuko's hand. His eyes had gone terribly wide. "You're joking."
"No. He, um, went a little crazy before the invasion."
Zuko ran a hand through his hair. "I really need to have a talk with that kid…"
"Oh, stop." She pulled her own hair straight. She focused on it, rather than his face. "Well. I should be going."
Zuko was up on his feet. "You're all sweaty."
She frowned. "Gee, thanks, Zuko."
"I mean, um, you could get cleaned up. In there." He pointed to another door within the room. "Otherwise they might wonder what happened. Because, um, your hair's all messed up."
Her hands flew to her scalp. "It is?"
"Well, it's kind of everywhere-"
Katara bolted straight past him. He directed fire at a sconce just before she shut the door. Inside the room, she found a simple sink and tub and privy, and, to her great delight, a mirror. Zuko was right. Her hair was everywhere. She quickly turned on the taps, bent water from them, and used it to smooth down her hair. Grinning, she shucked off her tunic and grabbed a bar of soap. Best to get in a little bath if she could. She could even wash her wrappings. She was busy unbinding them when Zuko scratched faintly at the door.
"Don't come in!"
"Okay, okay, not so loud!" Silence, then: "What's taking so long?"
"I'm bathing."
"…In the tub?"
"No, with waterbending." She stuck her tongue out at the door. "My clothes are all dirty, too."
"…Oh. Well, I'll, um, just be in bed. Waiting. To get in, I mean! To the, um, you know. The room." He muttered something further, then Katara heard shuffling and the puff of a body throwing itself down on a mattress. Shaking her head, she concentrated on her bending – it felt so good, after all this time – and wrung her clothes out to before bending the water free of them. She sniffed them – she would no longer leave a scent trail a mile wide, at least. Sighing, she emerged to find Zuko lying on his side, the covers already pulled up absurdly high. He had lit a single sconce in the corner of the room nearest the bed.
"Well, thanks," Katara said. "For letting me use your facilities, I mean. And, for, you know, everything else." She smiled. "Like, um, not getting me killed. And my necklace."
"It's not yours, yet." He sat up, pulled his knees up. "We have to make it out of this, first."
"Oh, I'm getting that necklace. Just you wait." She rolled on her toes. "I guess I'll just be going."
Zuko threw the covers back. "I'll get the door."
"They're just panels-"
But he already had it open, and he was standing there waiting. Rolling her eyes, Katara ducked through. He followed, and tapped open the door leading to her room. Katara stepped inside. "Thanks."
"Sure." His fingers rolled along the panel. "So. Tomorrow night."
"Yeah. We should, um, try going somewhere else."
"Prison?" He swallowed. "I mean, if that's okay with you."
"No, it's a good idea. The prison tower. We should look there." She shifted weight. "Um, how do we get there, again?"
"…I have no idea."
"Good. So, we should make a plan."
"Maybe we should sleep on it," Zuko said.
"Yeah. Good idea. Sleeping." Somehow, she wasn't tired. Maybe it was the way she had splashed herself clean, or the rush of defeating Ozai in however small and sneaky a way, or maybe she just didn't want to think about what she would see when she fell asleep. "This was fun."
"It was?" Zuko blinked. "I mean, it was. I had fun." He winced. "I'm not very good at having fun."
"You're good at sneaking around though." Now she winced. "I mean, um, being sneaky. Not sneaking around."
"Right."
"I'll, um, talk to you tomorrow, I guess."
"Right. Good. Tomorrow."
"So, goodnight," Katara said.
"Yeah. Goodnight." He frowned. "Good morning, maybe."
"I miss windows."
"Me too." He smiled. "Goodnight."
Katara slept late the next day. She woke up just in time to hear pounding on her door, and to watch a guard entering her room with a tray. "Late night?" the guard asked.
Katara's heart skipped. "Well, it's a little bit difficult to sleep with Azula in the same house," she said.
"Sure you're not just pining for your boyfriend?"
Katara threw back the covers, marched over to the guard, and took the tray. "For your information, Water Tribe women do not pine." She stuck her nose in the air, and made a show of sashaying over to her bed.
"Looks like somebody wants to eat in the dark," the guard said, and slammed the door.
A moment later, golden light streamed through the tiny crack between the wall and the floor. Katara crouched down beside it. "Thanks," she said.
"Don't mention it." Against the wall, she heard him shifting. "So, I think I have a plan for tonight."
"That's good," Katara said.
"You're not going to like it."
"Try me."
"I can't believe you talked me into this," Katara said.
They stood in a hall of bones. Immense, toothy skulls, their teeth still sharp and gleaming with varnish, lined the floor. Massive rib-cages formed the ceiling. When they called it the Dragonbone Catacombs, they weren't kidding. Did Aang really face a creature this big? "It's only for tonight," Zuko said. "If we find the Mechanist, then we can go home."
He was right. They already knew about some of the Fire Lord's plans. All they really needed was more information on the weapon – well, that, and to find Longshot and Smellerbee. The plan was to use the fire sages' outfits as disguises with which to enter the prison; Zuko said the sages commanded a lot of respect and no one would look twice if they pretended to be there visiting prisoners. But one thing at a time: first, they needed a couple of outfits. And a lot of luck.
The outfits were tricky. They had to follow a waterpipe and the sounds of splashing and grumbling, to a doorway billowing steam. Apparently, the sages had their own private sauna down here. "I'll be right back," Zuko said, and darted into the room. He returned a moment later with red fabric and two hats over his shoulder. They fled down another hall, then entered a room filled with bones. These were broken, however; they had entered some sort of workshop where the ancient fossils could be repaired. "Put this on," Zuko said, and threw her a fire sage's outfit.
"What about our other clothes?" Katara asked. She plucked at Piandao's gift.
"Just stuff them under the tunic. You'll look fat," Zuko said. He pulled off his shirt and threw it at her. Then he turned around, and Katara had one second to shut her eyes before she heard fabric sliding down and being kicked across the room. Turning, she started undoing her clothes. Zuko was already putting on his fire sage uniform – Katara had only started stuffing the black clothes into the waistband of her new pants when he said: "I hate these hats."
Katara half-turned and saw Zuko in full fire sage gear. She had to restrain a laugh. He had chosen an ensemble that was way too big for him; even the tall, conical hat sagged down on his face. "It covers your scar a little bit, though," she said. She struggled into the shoulder-guards; a moment later Zuko was pulling them down across her. "These are so heavy!"
"I forgot the bracelets," Zuko said.
"I think our lack of beards are more of a problem," Katara said. "You don't happen to carry one around, do you?"
"I'm not your brother," Zuko said. His eyes narrowed and he searched the room. "There has to be something…"
"Wool!" Katara pointed to a box overflowing with the rough white stuff – it looked like it had come directly from the koalambs whose wool had once made Aang's bed prior to the invasion. Currently, it tumbled out of a half-stuffed bird: clearly whoever used this room fancied himself an amateur taxidermist. Cringing, she grabbed some and began shredding it in her fingers, working it into something beard-like. "It's not the Wang and Sapphire Fire, but it might work."
Zuko stuffed some of the wool under his hat. "Who are Wang and Sapphire Fire?"
"They're me and Sokka," she said. "We had to pretend to be Aang's parents, once."
"But you and Aang look nothing alike! I at least have the same hair color!"
"You weren't with us!"
"Well, obviously!" He licked his fingers and tried using his spit to stick the wool to his chin. It failed miserably. "We need glue."
Katara raised a hand, bent condensation from the pipes above, and blended it with the dirt of the stones at their feet. "How's mud?"
"Mud is good," Zuko said. "You first."
Katara smeared some across her face and started applying the wool. "Don't you want some?"
"Get your eyebrows," Zuko said. "You don't look enough like an old man."
Katara carefully stuck more wool there. "How about now?"
"Fine." Zuko stole some of her mud, and started making his own beard. Katara moved for the door. "And quit swaying," Zuko added.
"I'm not swaying."
"When you walk, you sway," he said.
"I do not!"
"You do too! You need to walk like an old man! You know, stiff." He held up a single finger and spoke in his uncle's voice: "Age is a thief in life's long, dark night, Miss Katara."
Katara suppressed giggles. "Just put your beard on," she said. "Wait, no, make it a mustache! It'll cover more."
Zuko sneezed. "It itches…"
"Don't sneeze! You'll sneeze your disguise off!"
Zuko finally stuck on his mustache and eyebrows, secured his hat, and moved for the door. Silently, they emerged from the room and tried their old man walks. Katara tried to remember the way Master Pakku had moved; somehow it had never struck her as elderly. "Just lead with your stomach," Zuko said, and stuck his gut out the way General Iroh had used to.
"I'll ruin my back-"
"Good, good, you sound old-"
"You two!"
They froze. "Yes?" Zuko asked in his uncle's voice, without turning around.
"They've been waiting for you outside! It's time to get moving! Follow me!" The owner of the voice marched past them and down the hall. Shrugging at each other, Zuko and Katara followed, occasionally hobbling when they remembered to do so. "Honestly, you old folks," the younger sage said. "Those prisoners' bodies aren't going to just cremate themselves, you know."
And before Katara could ask what this meant – because she desperately wanted it to mean something other than what she guessed – they were outside, and there was a palanquin. And Zuko was letting her lean on him as she stumbled toward their new vehicle. He levered himself up beside her. "To the tower." Then the palanquin rose from the ground, and they were leaving the city.
Katara had wanted the capitol to be ugly. Whenever she imagined it, she had pictured houses of iron, like Fire Navy ships beached on land, all spikes and rivets and maybe enemy heads on pikes. Now, travelling through its sleeping streets, she wished for daylight. It would expose the milky stone and the elaborate, perfumed gardens, and shed light on the numerous ponds she saw once the road raised a little on the way out of the crater. The capitol was a jewel nestled inside the dead volcano, far removed from the coal smoke and fish reek of the industrial neighborhoods near the harbor. But it was also quiet: Katara found herself missing the constant noise of the Oyster District. She missed the hurry and hustle. And her room, which had windows. And the food, which tasted better and arrived hand-delivered to her by a former prince.
The palanquin pulled up at the gates to the prison tower, and as it lowered, a lump entered Katara's throat and the seaslugs once again took up residence in her gut. Zuko offered her his arm, though, and she was grateful of the chance to hunch over and lean on it. Slowly, they shuffled inside the gates. Under her hand, Zuko's arm had started to sweat. She squeezed it, and he quickened their pace.
At the door, the guards saluted. Zuko and Katara did the same. "They're in the usual place," said their escort, and began leading them inside the prison.
Despite having spent so much time there, Katara had only seen a small piece of the prison's interior – her cage, and the Dai Li's interrogation room. Inside, it was huge: stairways that coiled back on themselves like serpents, labyrinthine passages that seemed designed to trap any possible escapees. Their escort led them through doorway after doorway, down and down and down until Katara started to sweat from the heat. They had to be close to a furnace, or whatever system had generated the hot air piped the room where Katara's old cage had hung. Down here the prison clamour diminished, and so Katara swore she could hear her own heart thudding when their escort paused at a thick iron door. "These ones don't have anybody waiting," he said. He coughed. "I'll, uh, just wait out here if it's all the same."
"Thank you," Zuko said, and ushered Katara through the door. It clanged closed behind them, and then they were alone.
In a room full of dead bodies.
The smell hit Katara first. It wasn't the smell of the dead – Katara knew that smell from when animals beached themselves on the ice or when their travels took them past rotting carcasses. This was a burnt smell, a sort of greasy, set-in smell like an unclean kitchen. The gaping kilns, their iron doors swinging wide, told her all she needed to know. They were in the prison crematorium.
Katara crept up behind Zuko. Something about the still, shrouded shapes on the floor made her need the closeness of a living being. Her fingers brushed his shoulder and he startled. "Don't do that!"
"I'm sorry! I'm just a little creeped out!"
His hand found hers and gripped it hard. "They're dead. They can't hurt us."
"They can haunt us, though. We're not really fire sages. We don't have the authority to…do whatever it is we're supposed to be doing."
"I think we're supposed to bless them," Zuko said.
"Yeah, well, we can't," Katara said. "We're not the genuine article. Their spirits will be angry. This is wrong."
"We might be all they have," Zuko said. "We should do something before the guards figure out who we really are." He pulled away, and quickly blasted fire into the kilns. He turned to her, licking his lips. "All you have to do is help me lift them," he said.
Her stomach turned. "You owe me big," she said. "When this is over, you have to do something really, really nice for me."
"I'll give your tribe the Southern Fleet," he said.
Katara blinked. "Really? Because I was really just hoping for a day at the spa."
He almost smiled. "You know, when this is over, you really have to start thinking bigger." He moved toward the body closest to the door, and knelt. "Um, say something."
Katara knelt, too. "Um…whoever you are, I hope that you're happier now, and that your next life ends in a better place than this. And please forgive us for not being sages, but it's for a really good cause." She winced. "Is that okay?"
Zuko nodded. He looked a little green. "That's fine." He shut his eyes and murmured something, then nodded at the body. "Let's move him."
Katara tried telling herself that it would be like carrying a big bundle of clothes, or a sleeping person, but that didn't stop the tremor that shuddered up her spine the moment she touched the dead body. They carried him over to the kiln, then awkwardly loaded him inside. "We can't just throw him in there like garbage," Katara said.
"He's not garbage," Zuko said. "He's helping us. Without him, we couldn't have gotten inside the prison."
He began stuffing the body in the kiln. He grabbed a lever beneath the kiln door, and the body dropped away into the flames. They sighed in unison. The lump in Katara's throat seemed to get a lot harder. Her eyes stung. Zuko's hand settled awkwardly on her shoulder. "It's okay," he said.
"I know he was probably a bad guy," Katara said. "I know he probably did something bad, but…"
His hand fell to her back and rubbed a loose circle there. "At least it's better than the firing squad," he said. He swallowed. "I can do it by myself, if you want."
For a moment, she seriously considered it. Then she imagined herself sitting with her back turned to Zuko while he did all the hard work, and shook her head. "No. It's all right. I'll be okay."
After that, it got easier. Zuko continued murmuring something over the bodies, and Katara simply closed her eyes and expressed her hopes for the prisoner's spirit. Then she noticed Zuko carefully peeling the wrapping away from each corpse's face. It was just a little bit near the eye, but he would sigh and seem to walk faster afterward. "Are you…checking?" She gulped. "For someone we know?"
"What? Oh. No. Why would I do that? Our f… Everyone we know is outside. And the Freedom Fighters…" He blinked. "They're so strong. There's no need to worry."
Katara pulled the lever. "It's okay if you say 'our friends.' Toph is my friend and yours, too. And the same with Aang. So you can say 'our.'"
Zuko seemed at once taller and younger just then, like a tree whose old, dead bark had split during another year's growth. "Thanks." He moved toward another body.
"How did you know Jet?" Katara asked, helping him lift it.
"We stole food together while crossing the Serpent's Pass." His good eyebrow lifted. "And you?"
"He wanted me to help him flood a Fire Nation colony," Katara said. "I refused. But it was too late."
When he wasn't looking a little bit distracted, Zuko maintained a constant scowl, and now it deepened into real disapproval. To her chagrin, she found herself looking away. "What happened?"
"Sokka warned the villagers. They had just enough time to evacuate. But I helped Jet destroy that place, because I was too stupid to see what he was doing." Katara stared at her too-large sage's shoes. "All he had to do was say a bunch of nice things and I just believed him and trusted him and all along he just wanted to use me."
"But he tried to make up for it," Zuko said.
"He kept on saying how much I could do with my bending. Like he really thought it was special. Like I was special. And that wasn't it at all; he didn't even like me-"
"He liked you." Zuko brushed his palms on his knees and moved away.
"You don't know that for sure," Katara said. "You weren't there."
"I knew Jet," Zuko said, as though that were supposed to explain something.
She frowned. "Did he talk about me, or something?"
"No."
"So how do you know-"
"I just know! It's one of those things!"
"One of what things?"
"Things! I don't know! Help me move this last body."
Katara crossed her arms. "I'll help you when you explain yourself."
Zuko rolled his eyes. For a moment, he looked pained and put-upon, much like his uncle, and his woolly new mustache only enhanced the effect. "He liked you. Lots of people like you. Aang likes you. One of our guards likes you. Those two morons at the teahouse liked you. Haru-"
"Haru does not-"
"Yes. He does."
"You're seeing things!"
"I see him gawking at you!"
"Haru does not gawk."
"He gawks like a yokel on his first market day."
"Yokel?" She was having a hard time suppressing her laughter. "Did you just use the word yokel in a sentence?"
"Oh, be quiet and help me move this one. He's huge."
Sighing, Katara crouched and helped Zuko lift the former prisoner. He was right; the body was enormous. Her elbows started shaking. "Uh, he's a little heavy."
"No kidding."
Katara's arms gave out and the body dropped. Something rolled away from the corpse; it looked like another tiny model urchin. Katara picked it up and examined it. Unlike Ozai's toy, this was made of iron and not gold. Its spikes still retracted when she pressed it, though. "Why would a prisoner be carrying one of your dad's playing pieces?" she asked.
"I have no idea," Zuko said. A knock sounded on the door and they stood. "We're almost done," Zuko barked.
"There's more to do," the guard said through the door. "Day shift's about to head out; time for the funeral."
Katara's blood went icy. The day shift was about to start? How long had their trip taken? How much time did they have left? Zuko was already moving. He crouched low, slung the body over one shoulder, heaved, and dashed to the kiln. He jumped up to help wedge the body inside, then slammed the door. He held out the little urchin toy to Katara. "Hold this."
"Where?"
He merely blinked at her. Her face heating, Katara dropped it down into her wrappings. Then Zuko opened the door, ushered her in front of him. "We are ready," Katara said, in her best Master Pakku voice. "Please lead on."
The guard nodded, then led them to another level. Behind two large iron doors was a circular room with a broad and shallow firepit that held no flames and sat under an immense hanging chimney. Around it sat women and children and a few people who might have been brothers or even husbands. They wore ordinary work clothes with new white armbands over each bicep. And over the firepit were more bodies.
"If you could just perform the usual service," the guard said.
Perform the usual service? Katara had no idea what a Fire Nation funeral looked like. She cast a quick glance at Zuko. He licked his lips and moved slowly for the firepit. Katara stood beside him. Zuko made the traditional salute, and Katara quickly followed. The assembly saluted back.
He opened his mouth. "My…my companion is too ill to give the service," he said. "You will have to listen to me, and I am a little rusty. I require more training."
Not even a hint of laughter. Zuko straightened, then raised his arms. "Legend says the dragons granted us the gift of fire to warm and sustain us," he said. "Now we return our beloved friends and family to its embrace. May their spirits rise like sparks to join the Great Dragons of the Four Skies." And, taking a deep breath, he lunged forward and ignited the firepit. The assembled crowd flinched a little. Children turned away. Zuko raised the flames higher and soon all the bodies had caught. Katara backed away. As one, the families rose and began shuffling out. One very thin woman hung back, though, and she carried a baby. Timidly, she stepped forward to Zuko, then bowed deeply.
"Excuse me, but would you please consider blessing my child?"
Zuko stiffened, then placed his hand over the infant's head. His sooty thumb made a mark on the skin. Katara caught herself peering around him. "A spark in the mind, an ember in the heart, a fire in the belly, and destiny in your hands," Zuko said, touching each place in turn.
"Thank you," the woman whispered. She moved away.
"One more thing," Katara said. Her hand darted out and made a crescent moon shape from the soot Zuko had left on the child's forehead. "The Mark of the Brave," she said.
"…I've never heard of that one."
"It's foreign," Katara said, hoping her voice sounded ancient and not too proud. "But every little bit helps."
The woman shifted her weight. "I'm sorry, but I have nothing to give in exchange…"
"Tell us about this prison," Zuko said. "Surely you have been coming here for some time?"
"The prison?"
"We want to know if the guards are keeping the old ways or not," Katara said, hoping her lie sounded appropriately old and crotchety.
The woman frowned, but nodded. "The prison is improving," she said. "Before… Well, my husband said that it seemed less crowded. They were moving the foreigners and non-benders to a different prison."
"Why?" Katara asked.
The woman shrugged. She re-settled her child on her arm. "I'm not sure. My husband could bend. But he said they were taking everyone else they could." She seemed to search her memory. "I think it was some kind of new work project within the capitol. They probably wanted earthbenders to do all the digging."
"That sounds…highly unorthodox," Zuko said. "Thank you." Then he was ushering Katara out of the room, despite her incoherent coughs of protest, and he said to the guard: "We're finished here." And when they finally reached the palanquin, he said only: "Doubletime."
"We didn't even look for the Mechanist," Katara whispered in his ear.
"He's not there," Zuko said.
"Well, where is he?"
Zuko stared at the softly paling sky. "I don't know."
Their arrival at the Catacombs was a flurry of excuses and muttering and finding a room to change in. Once inside their black clothes, it was a dead run through tunnels for the ladder. Each time Katara faltered, Zuko reached back and grabbed her hand and pulled her a little further. Her heart felt as though it was going to come out of her throat, somehow. Then he was pushing her up the ladder, and making promises about letting her bathe and letting her sleep if she would only just hurry. She dragged herself up the ladder and into his room and he started the taps before she could ask. Then he was getting out of his clothes and scrubbing, throwing water over his hair and while she stared. "We have to wash the sweat off," he said. "They'll smell it. They'll know we were running."
Raising one eyebrow, Katara wicked the sweat off him with bending. "And now?"
"You're a genius." He quickly raised his hands. "Not that I'm saying that just so you'll help me bring down part of the Fire Nation. Which you already are. But not because of anything I said. Right?"
"…What are you talking about?"
"I didn't trick you," Zuko said. "Like he did. Jet. With the flood."
Katara was too tired to laugh. "No. You didn't trick me." She snorted. "And it's lucky for you, otherwise I'd have frozen you to a tree, like I did to him."
"You froze him to a tree?"
"I learned from the best."
He grinned. "That was some of my best rope, you know."
She rolled her eyes. "Aww, poor Zuko lost his good rope…"
"The others wanted to use shipping twine on you. But I was more civilized."
"Shipping twine?"
"It's for tying crates," Zuko said. "It's very rough. You would have hated it."
"Oh, and the 'good' rope made everything all better."
"It makes a very smooth knot," Zuko said. "In fact, I'm getting your dad some. He could use it."
"My dad doesn't tie me up!"
"I meant for sailing."
"Oh." She blinked. "I think we should be in bed, now."
"We're tired," Zuko said. "And breakfast is due any minute."
As though the Universe had heard him, a knock sounded at Zuko's door. "Stay here," he said. He jumped into the other room and under his covers. Katara heard an exaggerated yawn that quickly became a single word: "Azula."
"Good morning, Zuko. How are you enjoying your confinement?"
"I'm not. What do you want?"
"Why, Zuko, can't you count? Today is the big day. Soon you'll get to see your precious Uncle Fatso again. And that darling little earthbender, the blind one, what's her name-"
"Today isn't the day," Zuko said. "Two days ago, you said we had three days. There's still one more day."
"Oh, is that what I told you? I suppose I neglected to mention when I sent the message. I sent it three days ago. You know, while you were busy waiting so impatiently for Katara and Ty Lee to finish their little chat." Azula paused. "I hear you made quite the impression on Li and Lo, Zuko. All that blustering, it can't be good for you. Ty Lee says you'll get a gray hair."
"Get out."
Azula sighed. "Oh, Zuko. You just never learn, do you? Perhaps the waterbender will give me a better welcome."
"Leave her alone."
"Or what?" She laughed. "The only reason Father is keeping you two alive is because I said I have use for you. Don't make me change my mind by doing something stupid."
"I don't care what either of you does to me."
"What makes you think we'd start with you, Zuko?" Her voice moved toward the door. "Hurting you is just dessert."
The door squealed open, then clanged shut. Katara stumbled out from behind the bathroom door and Zuko was opening the panel and he said: "Hurry. Stay under the covers. Don't let her see these clothes."
But Katara was already pulling them off and ditching them on his floor, kicking them off as she moved onto the steel grate and into her own room. It was easier than thinking. It was easier than hearing Azula's words in her mind. It was easier than realizing that soon she would stand before her brother and her father and Teo and General Iroh and Aang with nothing, not a shred of a clue about where the Mechanist was or what his new weapon looked like or even what had happened to Longshot and Smellerbee. They had failed. "I won't let her hurt you," Zuko whispered, and shut the panel. Then Katara was alone, and she had barely managed to slide under the covers when Azula opened the door.
"Rise and shine, Sweetness," the princess said. "It's time for you to earn your keep."
"What?" Katara asked.
"You're going back where you belong," Azula said. "The Oyster District."
I apologize for how long this took! I had serious issues about how to get into that prison, and it really blocked me for a long time. I hope you enjoyed it!
