AN: Thank you so much, reviewers! And thanks to everybody else just for reading!

Dang it, Kimberly T. You're right. At least one more chapter after this one, maybe two.

Warning: This chapter contains a scene of sexual aggression towards a minor. It's thwarted but still creepy. If that's potentially triggering and you want to skip it, just don't read the last section of this chapter.

Katara marched along with her escort as slowly as she could. She asked silly questions about the ship, which was actually much bigger than Zuko's, but the firebender refused to speak to her and the soldier kept shooting her accusatory glares as the welt on his face continued to rise. They were on the stairs, climbing, when Katara hit the topic she'd been aiming for all along.

"Do you guys have any daughters?" she asked, peering back over her shoulder at them.

The soldier narrowed his eyes at her, but finally answered. "No. I have a son a little older than you, though. He was a pest at your age, too."

"And I'll bet you were really understanding and compassionate about the emotional struggles of growing up, right?" Katara said, too sweetly. He snorted and rolled his eyes and Katara turned to the firebender. "How about you, Rudo? Any daughters?"

"Two," he said quietly through his face plate. "Good girls. A blessing to their mother."

"How old are they?" Katara asked, smiling.

"Twelve and ten."

"I'm just a little older, fourteen." She said it like it was nothing, but she knew they'd have to think about it. They'd have to consider what would happen to their children if they were taken captive.

Rudo said nothing. They climbed in silence for a moment.

"When I was ten, my dad sailed off with the men of our tribe to go to war. Is it that way in the Fire Nation? Do you just sail off and not see your families again for years at a time?"

"We have an alternating schedule – every other year we get leave for holidays," Rudo said. "Not much time, but it's something."

"My son was conscripted into the navy last year," said the soldier. "I see him sometimes when our ships cross paths."

"It's got to be scary to have your son at war," Katara offered.

"It's a whole lot scarier with the Avatar sinking ships left and right. Half a dozen men I knew drowned in those ships he destroyed a few days ago."

Katara stopped and turned around. "What?"

The two men shared a glance and the soldier pushed her on up the stairs. "Your friend sank six Fire Nation steamers with no provocation. Survivors said he just tore them apart like they were nothing."

Katara was stunned. Aang had done this? Gentle Aang had been responsible for people dying? Maybe he could do that if he was in the Avatar state but it would take a lot to push him that far over the edge…

Katara missed a step and staggered. A lot, like Katara being taken prisoner by Zuko. People had died and it was her fault. And Zuko's fault. And that stupid platypus-bear, who just would not let it go…

She was so stunned thinking about this that she didn't notice the rest of the journey up the stairs and down the long corridor. It was only when the soldier knocked on a door and Zhao's voice said "Come," that she realized the walk was over.

The door opened onto a military-style sitting room. Zhao sat on one side of the square table, a map weighted down before him and a pot of tea steeping nearby.

"If it isn't Lady Katara," he said, emphasizing the 'lady' as if it was a big joke. He quirked an eyebrow and gestured to the seat at his right. "Do join me. I have a proposition you'd be wise to consider."

Koa scrubbed the back of her hand against her eyes and took a few more deep breaths. "That was my granddad. Toko. He died a long time before I was born but I heard a lot of stories about him." She scowled and shot a pained look up at the poya. "Most of them aren't nice stories."

Aang settled down beside her to listen. Even the poya had lowered itself to watch Koa more closely. It twitched its whiskers.

She went on. "It's said among my people that Toko was too trusting of the poya. The old ways, the bonds from that vision, those are myths. Nobody believes in that stuff anymore." The poya made an angry buzzing sound and Koa ducked her head behind her hands defensively, but the poya remained still, waiting. "Toko did believe, and most people say he was a fool for it. They blame his delusions for the fall of the fisher nomads because he depended on the poya for survival when our people should have been looking for other ways to make a living."

The look on her face was so torn. Aang couldn't help himself. "You don't look so sure of that, Koa."

"Well I'm not," she spat. "Seeing the way my people used to live, compared to how we live now… We're scavengers, Aang. We build boats out of stolen parts of other boats. We fish but we live hand-to-mouth. You know I've never seen one of those floating smoke-sheds? We don't go far enough out from the coast to need those anymore." She shrugged and scrubbed at her face again. "I don't know. Maybe if Toko had survived and the poya had stayed with us, maybe things would have gotten better for us instead of worse."

"It's not too late for things to get better," Aang said.

Koa gave him a hard look and then drew another deep breath, shooting a glance at the poya before dropping her eyes to her lap. "My people are holding a grudge, too. They say that after the bison tuna vanished, Toko and the other fishers were lured away from the fleet to their deaths. By the poya. Nobody knew about the Fire Nation breaking eggs or killing Toko and the other fishers. Whatever story the last survivor told to that naked-faced liar, it died with her."

"Who was that guy, anyway?" Aang asked.

"I don't know," Koa said. "All of the fisher nomads wear tattoos on their faces now, but a lot of them didn't then. And…" She half-shrugged. "My dad, Toko's son, he kind of… ran away when he was young. We haven't had a lot of contact with the big fleet. Just at busy spots in the fish migrations. My dad… He hates the poya – because he thinks they killed his father. He's the one who started selling them… like fish." She scrubbed at her face again. Her voice was thick, angry. "I always knew there was something… something familiar about them. And I've just watched it happen. All my life, I've watched them get slaughtered. Dozens of them. Coming right up to the boat. Just to…"

Aang almost wanted to clap a hand over Koa's mouth. This information wasn't going to help her get away from the poya alive. But, when he looked at the hovering creature, he found her whiskers outstretched slightly. She was still listening.

"Koa," Aang said. "Why did you catch this poya? If you were on your own, away from your father's ship, he wasn't there to see you. Why would you net her?"

Koa dragged in some ragged breaths and huffed. She glared at the blue glowing canopy. "Sometimes your dad is there even when he's not there, Aang. I love my dad a lot. And I owe him, you know? It's— It's not easy being a girl fisher nomad. We… sometimes daughters are expected to make money in other ways." She assessed him for a second and Aang only blinked. "In ports," she pressed. "Dancing on the docks? Other ways?"

"Ohh!" Aang put his hands on his knees and smiled. "Like reading palms and stuff?"

Koa shut her eyes and put a hand gently on her forehead. "Yeah, Aang. Sure. The point is, my dad never wanted that for me. He sent me out to learn to fish with Hato when I was a kid, and I got to grow up without worrying about any of that other stuff."

"Why would you worry about palm reading?" Aang asked. "It always seemed pretty cool to me."

Koa crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not cool. It's demeaning and gross and dangerous."

"Huh…" Aang tapped his thumbs together and thought for a moment. Koa certainly seemed to be overreacting to this, but maybe he just thought that because he'd never been in a situation that demanded he do something he didn't like for money. "I never really thought about it, but I guess touching a bunch of strangers' hands is a pretty easy way to get sick."

Koa stared at him for a long moment and then forced out a half-hearted chuckle. "No kidding. It's also dangerous because men… people in Earth Kingdom ports aren't any fonder of fisher nomads than the Fire Navy is. Working on a dock can be really dangerous for girls."

"Okay," Aang nodded as he started to understand. "So by letting you fish with Hato instead of doing these things on docks, your dad spared you from a lot of difficulty. And you feel like you owe him your loyalty for that? That's why you captured the poya?"

"Kind of," Koa said, looking off toward the shadows under the enormous root bridge nearby. "We had a fight a couple weeks ago. My dad caught me shooing a poya away from the hull and he got so mad… He told me I would ruin us with my weakness, that I was already a burden on our fleet because I didn't pull my weight and that letting a perfectly good fish go was like snatching food out of the mouths of my family. I had never really realized how much less money I drew in as a fisher than I would have as a p-palm reader." She fixed him with an aching stare. "Aang, I was trying to prove that I wasn't a wasted opportunity. I was trying to prove that I could be as good as a son."

Aang wasn't sure how to respond to this. As a monk, he had been raised without a father, partly because the power of that bond clouded the mind and prevented true balance. The closest thing he had was Monk Giatsu, but he had been so gentle and kind, it was hard for Aang to imagine that he could have taught anything but the right way to live. What if he hadn't, though? What if Aang had grown up with Koa's father, who worked hard to protect his family but was wrong in his way of viewing the world?

But Koa wasn't waiting to hear what he might have to say. She looked up at the poya and swallowed hard. "I guess I… I netted you because I felt like it was the only way to restore my dad's faith in me. And my faith in myself."

The poya's whiskers swayed. It let out a long peal of clicks. Aang didn't know what it meant, but maybe Koa did.

Her chin firmed and she refused to look away. "You were probably right about me. If Aang hadn't come along, eventually I would have gotten up the nerve to just finish it. I would have done all the murder my dad taught me to do."

Katara didn't want to sit down at Zhao's table. She stopped just inside the door, frozen.

"Silly me, I seem to have forgotten my manners," Zhao said as he uncoiled to his feet. Just from the smoothness and balance of the motion, Katara could see how strong he was. It frightened her. He mocked a courtly gesture toward the place beside his at the table. "Pray join me, Lady Katara."

Katara still didn't move. "I can hear what you have to say from here just fine."

Zhao's smirk boiled off to reveal something nastier, but only for an instant. He shot a stern look past her to the still-open door. "Dismissed."

Katara turned back to find Rudo and the soldier idling in the hall. The soldier's face was carefully blank as he gave a 'yes sir' and began pushing the door shut, but she was almost sure Rudo was looking at her from behind his face plate. The heavy clank of the locking wheel hit her like a blow.

So much for winning allies.

"Now," Zhao said. Katara turned back to face him and found he'd stepped away from the table, effectively clearing a path between them. Almost more frightening, he was not wearing his armor, but the same sort of fine casual attire Zuko had worn at lunch just yesterday. His expression, by contrast, was thunderous. "Take your place like a lady or I'll put you in it."

There was a rattling sound before her and it took Katara a beat to realize it was the chains clamped around her wrists. She drew a breath and balled up her fists to stop her hands from shaking.

He was so much bigger than Zuko. If he got his hands on her, she wouldn't be likely to squirm away. Maybe if she played along she could win some time to come up with a plan. "Alright," she said quietly. She focused on keeping her movements smooth and calm as she took the few steps into the sitting room and knelt on the cushion he had indicated.

Zhao didn't sit. He just stood looming over her, close enough to touch. Katara felt sweat prick out on her neck. Finally, she looked up at him.

He was watching her with that alarmingly creepy intensity he'd had on the deck earlier.

Katara didn't want to ask, but she had to. "What?"

Zhao only smirked. "Later. For now," he said as he lowered himself back into his place, "Tea."

Katara glanced at the pot, then back at him. She didn't want to drink anything that he had prepared. (Who could say what might be in it?) But there was no harm in holding a cup of tea and pretending to wait for it to cool. "Okay," she said.

"Pour it."

"I thought it was custom for the host to pour."

"In the Fire Nation, the lower rank, nearer to servants and peasants, always pours."

Katara set her teeth at his smug tone and picked up the pot. It was heavier than she had expected and she dribbled a little tea as it splashed into the small cups. When she lowered the pot back to the table, it struck with a thump.

"Such elegance," Zhao said. "You must do the Southern Water Tribe proud."

"Actually," Katara said, a little more sharply than she'd intended, "we don't drink a lot of tea at the South Pole. I haven't poured tea in years. And General Iroh was gracious enough not to make me pour his tea."

"Fascinating," Zhao said, and Katara's stomach twisted. She'd gone too far. "That clever old goat would use improprieties to set you at ease. He's quite the strategist with the ladies, I'm told."

Katara glared. "I don't know what you're talking about. General Iroh was nothing short of a perfect gentleman." Never mind having her tied to the bed or arranging all of the awkward encounters with Zuko. Zhao didn't need to know about any of that.

"Was he," Zhao said, though it didn't sound like a question. "And what about the banished prince? What sort of treatment did you receive at his hands?"

"He followed Protocol and treated me properly as a prisoner of war." But despite her words, Katara couldn't help her face from reddening, because Zhao's wording reminded her of Zuko's hands on her that first day, struggling in his bed. And of just hours ago, when he had held her so gently during the dance, when he had tilted up her jaw with his warm fingertips.

Zhao's smirk was swelling across his face. "Is that so? He seemed very upset to have lost his… prisoner of war, today."

"I don't know if you've met Zuko before, but he really just seems to spend a lot of time being upset."

Zhao laughed, and Katara didn't like the meanness in it. "But really," he said, leaning across the table. His hand fell uncomfortably close to where hers were wrapped around her teacup. "You can be comfortable telling me if he mishandled you in any way." His hand sprang off the table again to strike an aristocratic gesture, "In point of fact, I am familiar with Prince Zuko. His behavior some years ago caused quite the scandal and resulted in his banishment. His honor is questionable and he has proven himself cowardly under duress." Zhao laid his hand back down on the table, a precious inch shy of Katara's knuckle. She tried not to flinch. "So you see, I would believe you and would gladly file a report on your behalf of any crime he may have committed against you."

Katara wanted to run away. The way he talked about crimes made her feel gross. Instead, she withdrew her hands from the table and placed them carefully in her lap. The chains rattled. "Look, whatever you're digging for, you can just give it up now. Prince Zuko didn't do anything wrong. You, though, are making me really uncomfortable."

"Am I?" Zhao asked in an airy way that screamed false embarrassment. His expression when he looked at her, however, was sharp with anticipation. "Perhaps then it's time for a change of pace."

"Sokka, why are we turning around? I thought the idea was to escape from the Fire Nation, not hang around until they catch us again."

"Sorry, Hong," Sokka said, holding tight to Appa's reins. They soared high over the sprawled-out port town, circling back toward the docks. "One of those ships looked really familiar."

There was a pained sound from the saddle and, when Sokka glanced over his shoulder, he saw that Hong had buried his face in both hands and was taking big, calming breaths. Momo was peering up at him with his huge eyes, apparently sympathizing.

Sokka turned back toward the water, sitting rigidly straight. "My little sister might be imprisoned on one of those steamers. I have to go back."

"And you're going to try breaking her out, too? Do you know how lucky we were to get away the first time? And now an alarm's gone up, so all those soldiers will be on edge. Have you forgotten that you can hardly walk?"

"Don't worry," Sokka said, squinting at that familiar, battered steamer as it came back into view. It should have been hard to tell from so far in the dark, but it was definitely Zuko's ship. No one else sailed that crappy old model.

The deck was cluttered with stacks of crates and a handful of men were clearing them away one at a time, carrying them down into the hold.

"I have an idea," Sokka said, turning around in the saddle. "Take off your clothes."

Aang's stomach dropped out. Koa wasn't even trying to save herself from the poya's judgement. As he watched, the creature's long whiskers began slowly rising toward her. "But your heart told you not to," he said, urging Koa with his eyes. "You knew it was wrong."

She only hung her head.

"Koa, if you had killed the poya like your dad wanted you to, a part of you would have withered. You would have chosen to obey your father rather than to do what you knew was right. Don't you see? Your faith in yourself would have been replaced with faith in him."

Koa seemed to stiffen at that. She looked slowly up at Aang. The tattoos across her forehead bunched where she furrowed her brow. "That may be true, but we'll never know now how I would have chosen. You came and changed everything. My chance to make a decision is over. Either way," she said, gritting her teeth, "I failed."

"No," Aang said. "You made a decision, Koa. Every day you refused to kill the poya, you decided to wait and think about what to do. You waited and thought and now the right moment has come for you to make your next move." Aang smiled. "I think maybe I was supposed to meet up with you and Hato when I did. Now you know the truth about your people's past and you can do something about the way they're living."

For a moment, a brightness entered Koa's eyes. She seemed astonished, hopeful. But then the expression faded and she shook her head. "That sounds great… but the next move isn't mine to make, Aang. The spirit decides whether or not to kill me."

Aang looked back at the poya, only to see that it had begun glowing faintly yellow. Suddenly, the creature shuddered and dropped the last feet to the ground. It hit with a wet slap and clicked loudly as the glowing intensified. Whatever spirit occupied it emerged, a vast dark phantom filling the cavern. Its black mass poured around trees, flooding out the blue light from the roots and canopy.

Aang and Koa found themselves crouched on the ground beside the poya, surrounded by blackness. A white spot wavered into view and formed an almost-face, as if a face were reflecting off dark water and looking back at them.

"Koa of the fish-people, for the crimes of you and yours against my children and Our Mother Tui, I will have your life," it said in a voice that sounded like many voices – an old woman, a snarling animal, a chorus of children.

Aang leapt to his feet. "Wait! What gives you the authority to make this decision? Who are you?"

"I am the only authority on drowning, Avatar, and I have many names," the spirit said, scathing in every voice. "I am the mother's arms that cradle Tui's dead and dying. I am the stillness that follows a heart's final beat." The face rippled and quivered, one instant weeping, the next calm as the moon.

"It's Tohu," Koa said softly. "The spirit that gathers the souls of the drowning."

"I'd like to discuss your father's little rebellion."

Katara didn't even blink. "That's too bad, because I don't know anything about it."

"Luckily, for conversation's sake," Zhao said, pointing to a cove on the map, "I know quite a bit. For instance, that this is where that obnoxious little fleet of Water Tribe ships goes to harbor. And this," he pointed to another spot, "is where they buy supplies from Earth Kingdom traitors. And here," he rapped the tip of his finger in a slow rhythm against a little dot, not so far from their present location. "This is where the resistance will attempt to ambush a Fire Navy munitions vessel tomorrow and will instead find themselves trapped between a rocky coast and eight of my best war-steamers." He sat back, watching Katara closely. "Do you imagine he'll think of you as he's burning to death? Or will he be too occupied screaming?"

Katara's heart was in her throat as she stared at the point where her father could very well die tomorrow. She couldn't help remembering how he'd held her before he had left her and Sokka those years ago, and she'd been afraid it would be the last time she saw him. Would it be? Would he fall into a Fire Nation trap and be lost to her forever?

"You're lying," she said, shaking her head, trying to squeeze the note of doubt out of her voice. "There's no way you could know all this."

"Isn't there? The Earth Kingdom is rife with spies. A lot of people simply want the war over and done with. They've wisely come to recognize that submitting to the Fire Nation is the only way to save their families from so much heartache and desperation."

"My dad is smart enough to know who he can trust."

"He has been at war for a long time, though, hasn't he, Lady Katara? A man's mind loses its edge when the fight is long and hopeless. I know; I've seen it happen over and over, one rebel at a time undone by their own desperation for hope."

"Not my dad," Katara forced out. "That won't happen to my dad."

Zhao was only silent, and somehow that was worse than torturous possibilities he laid out before her. The silence forced Katara back on her own words, her weak denial of what could very well happen. It won't happen. It just won't. Every echo grew weaker, a frail remnant of the conviction it had been before.

"There is," Zhao said at last, "one thing you might do to help your father."

Katara looked up from the map and into the wolf-yellow eyes of the man beside her at the table. Those eyes crawled down her face to her mouth, her throat, then snapped back to her eyes.

"I want the Avatar."

Katara couldn't stop herself. She scowled. "I'll never help you."

Zhao's face creased slowly as his sharp smile returned. "I was hoping you'd say that." He clamped his hand around the manacle clasping her wrist. "An uncooperative prisoner can be so much more satisfying to deal with."

"You think you know me, child?" the white face asked, twisted with disdain. Its many voices echoed the sneer. "You know nothing. Thousands of years ago, my children took pity on your people, and for generations uncounted they protected you from me. They hunted for you, sang for you, lived among you – and your ancestors turned on them in an instant."

"They didn't know what had happened," Aang said, holding out his hands before him. "They were heartbroken over all their family members who had just died! It was wrong and they should have known better, but they were scared and sad and they made a mistake."

"Do not think to lecture me about mistakes, Avatar," Tohu said in many whispers. The face distorted. There was fury there, horror. "All of the imbalances in our world are consequences of your own mistake. I saw you in that ice. I would have embraced you myself all those years ago if you had not hidden away from me. A new Avatar would have been born. The world would have been very different."

Aang jerked back as if struck. The guilt that always simmered in the back of his mind flared up, but he firmed his stance and held his head high. "I know that it was wrong to run away, but I didn't choose to stay in the ice for that long. Now that I'm back in the world again, I'm going to do everything I can to repair the damage that's been done." He gestured to Koa, who still knelt on the twisted roots. "Koa didn't choose for her ancestors to turn against the poya, she didn't even know how it happened. But now she knows. And she can tell all her people about the mistake they made. She can repair the damage that's been done if you'll just give her a chance."

"Aang!" Koa struggled to her feet, favoring her uninjured ankle. "That's a really big promise to make. My father is set in his ways and I don't even know most of my people. And I'm awful with people – I can't convince anyone of anything. I don't want to make a promise like that, not knowing if I could keep it!"

"Truly?" asked the many voices of the drowning spirit. The white face glittered, reformed.

Koa shuddered. "I…"

Tohu seemed to swell, the face growing larger until it was as tall as Aang. Black tendrils swooped around Koa, the tapered ends feathering against her forehead, her palms, her throat. "Then I will have your life this way instead, Koa of the fish-people," the spirit said as Koa's skin began to glow yellow. "You will return your people to the old ways before the summer solstice. If you fail, if the blood of one poya is spilled at the hands of the fish-people after that day, I will find you. I will find you wherever you hide, Koa, and I will kill you."

To Aang's horror, Koa's eyes rolled up and her hands tremored at her sides. She looked like she was choking. He opened his mouth to protest, but as he watched, the lines on Koa's face began reworking themselves, coiling into new shapes. Tiny waves and tiny fish and tiny people riding their backs to the depths of her jawbone. Clouds unfurled across her brow. From her mouth, gaping open and black, tiny dark tendrils radiated across the skin of her lips.

Finally, the glow diminished and Tohu withdrew. Koa fell hard on her hands and knees. Aang whirled on the white face, which was shrinking away now, placid and smooth, but before he could say anything, a cold hand grabbed his.

It was Koa, she was breathing hard and glared up at him with wide eyes, shaking her head just a little. "No more helping," she managed.

Aang winced, looking at the ground as he helped her to her feet. When he looked back to face Tohu, the spirit was gone. The blue light of the underwater forest was back. On the ground before them, the poya clicked unhappily.

Koa immediately bent down and touched its slick head. "Oh Hona, I'm so sorry." She shot Aang an urgent look. "We have to get her back to the water."

"Hona?"

"That's her name. Come on."

It was a struggle, between the poya's slick weight and Koa's sprained ankle, but they made it to the nearest edge of the root mass and lowered Hona into the water. She did a happy figure eight, cutting through the water with her extended dorsal fin. As Koa was climbing in after her, Aang hung his head.

"I'm so sorry, Koa. I didn't mean to force you into that position."

Koa bobbed in the water and the poya nudged past her hands. She didn't look up at Aang when she spoke. "I know you didn't, Aang. And it's not like I don't want my people to change." She did look up at him then, and her eyes were a little worried even as she forced her mouth into a smile. "I'm really not looking forward to having that conversation with my dad, though."

Aang sat down on the bank. "What are you gonna do?"

"Well," Koa said, and drew a big breath. "First I'm going to find Hato. Who knows what kind of trouble he's gotten into by now."

Sokka stood before the only occupied cell in the brig, favoring his uninjured leg and frowning. The cell's occupant was a tall guy with spiky hair, grungy clothes, and a face-full of tattoos. He was sprawled on the bed, scowling at the ceiling.

He was definitely not Katara.

Sokka's heart fell. He had known getting on the ship had been too easy, too good to be true. The soldiers had been really effectively distracted when Sokka came running from behind a stack of crates limping and screaming about rabid rat-monkeys. Momo had handled the sound effects very well. No one had stopped Sokka from going down to see the medic for the wound that, without its bandage, was seeping a little blood through Hong's Fire Nation issue pants. Then, the guard stationed in the brig had stepped right into the clever little rope trap Sokka had rigged up in the hallway. Everything had just fallen into place so neatly. And now this.

"You're not Katara," Sokka said, shoulders slumping. The keys rattled softly in his hand.

The guy raised his head and took in Sokka's Fire Nation issue clothes and then his slap-dash topknot. He narrowed his eyes. "How do you know Katara?"

Sokka pointed his finger at the guy in the cell, a little panicky now. This guy looked like big trouble. What kind of acquaintances was his sister making during her incarceration, exactly? "How do you know Katara?" he demanded.

The guy got off the bed and came closer. "I'm Hato. I tried to help her escape."

"She got away?" A wave of relief flooded Sokka, but only for a second.

"Not exactly... she kind of got captured by another Fire Nation guy." Hato dug a hand into his hair, looking pretty broken up about it. "I think she's in big trouble."

Sokka didn't trust this guy, but being imprisoned on Zuko's ship spoke well of his character. He considered his options and made a snap decision. The key scraped into the cell door and Sokka let it swing wide. "Then you can help me get her out of it."

Hato made a pretty good crutch, too, and when Sokka's knee gave out, he was really glad he'd decided to let him come along. They hustled back the way Sokka had come as quietly as possible, tucking themselves out of sight whenever the sounds of boots approached.

An alarm went up just as they reached the last flight of stairs. Sokka could smell the open air spilling through the doorway. "Okay," he said. "We may not have a lot of time once we're up there, so we need to dive overboard and swim under the dock. Got it?"

"Got it."

They hurried up the last flight of stairs and burst outside, only to find General Iroh and a dozen guards waiting for them in a circle.

Iroh peered at Sokka closely, frowning as if in thought. "My memory is not what it once was, but I think I would remember hiring you, Sokka."

"Let me go!"

Katara tried to wrench her hand away but Zhao's grip was too strong. He dragged her chained hands in close to his body so that she had to lean over the corner of the table toward him. Afraid he would try to kiss her, Katara flinched and turned her face away. Zhao only breathed hotly into her ear.

"Before, when you came to sit so nicely at my table," he growled, pausing as if to savor the moment again, "I was thinking how pretty you look when you bow your head and obey."

"I don't want to know what you were thinking!" Katara could hear how shrill her voice had become but she couldn't calm it. She pulled until her wrists stung from the manacles, until her elbows ached. She tried to get her feet under her so that she could pull harder. "Let go!"

But Zhao only dragged her closer. "You want me to let you go?" He began drawing her hand in a direction she really, desperately did not want it to go. "If you can be a good-"

"NO!"

Katara, instead of pulling, suddenly pushed. She flung herself at Zhao in an uncoordinated strike that carried her completely over the table. Tea spilled. A cup broke. Katara's shoulder connected hard with Zhao's nose, her elbow digging into his chest as he lost his grip and she scrambled to get away. She made a run for the door. Behind her, she heard his snarl as he regained his feet. There was no time.

Suddenly, his words from earlier came back to her. …fallen nation of savage weaklings…

Katara wheeled to face the enraged firebender just as he punched a blast of flame at her. It wasn't a very powerful strike, intended to knock her down more than to do real damage. She ducked aside, the heat barely licking her cheeks, and in the same smooth motion latched onto the only liquid available in the room.

Zhao was about to launch another attack. His arm was cocked back for the blow. His teeth were bared and his nose was leaking a line of blood down his lip.

Katara didn't really see the blood, and she also didn't hear the sound of the door clanking open behind her. All she was really aware of was Zhao – who was everything she hated and feared about the Fire Nation – and the only source of water in the room.

She fell into the stance reflexively, felt the liquid on the table respond, and hurled a whip of scalding tea into Zhao's face. He immediately staggered back and fell, howling into his clutching hands.

"That's how we pour in the Water Tribe," Katara snapped, and then rushed for the door.

Only then did she notice that the door was open and a dark figure stood framed in it. Katara skidded to a stop within arms' reach of the Blue Spirit.