Chapter Fourteen

"The Generals are meeting now," said her advisor, Yaku. The court scribe typed furiously, fingers dancing over the metal keys. "They're devising defense strategies in case the Earth Kingdom tries to strike again, along with several offensive tactics for the time when we're ready to invade. Other members of our court are calculating losses. The Capital appears to have been the focal point of the attack; however, there were several other major cities struck down, including several port cities such as those on Obsidian Island and Whale-Tail Island. There are reports of several smaller targets burning on the Day of Black Sun, but whether this is a direct result of the bombings or a product of the panic it caused, we can't say." Yaku glanced up.

Taemin inclined her head in his direction, telling him to continue.

"Regarding the subject of our resources, we have . . . Hmm . . . Enough factories and industrial areas to supply us with ample capacity to retaliate. Our quarries, however, may be limited in their production. Many were destroyed by the Earth Kingdom's peripheral forces, the miners along with them. Repairs may take the rest of the year, and that's without taking into account the lack of manpower we have at hand."

Timidly, Taemin opened her mouth to speak. It shocked her when Yaku immediately fell silent; she hesitated. "Is there any way we can fill the gaps left by the deceased workers?" she choked out.

Yaku exchanged glances with the other advisors. Like rushing water, their overlapping suggestions filled the room. Taemin leaned forward, almost falling out of her too-large chair. Though this place didn't have all the luxuries of the palace, it still sported a prominent throne room, featuring a platform ringed with flames. Of course they'd put me up here, she thought, forcing herself back into the velvet cushions. One bad fall, and I'll light my face on fire.

The conversation between her advisors faded away. "I apologize, Fire Lady Taemin," Yaku said. "But until we have more accurate casualty counts, we cannot make any moves to fill such roles. There are more important positions to fill. It's unwise to focus on this one area."

Her resolve died. With an effort, she forced her posture to remain regal, just as her father had taught her. Though Father is dead now . . . "Very well," she said quietly. "We will wait. What can we do now?"

"Well, there is the matter of the Earth Kingdom families within our borders."

She blinked. "The . . . I don't understand."

Yaku spoke slowly, as if speaking to a toddler. "Peace has reigned for many years now. As a result, there are many immigrants from the Earth Kingdom within our borders."

She nodded, waiting for him to go on.

"Lady Taemin, what do you propose we do with them?"

"Do with them? Are they not our citizens?"

Yaku caught the nature of her argument from her tone. "Yes, but . . . Many of them are earthbenders, or closely related to earthbenders. You cannot imagine they'll be accepted by our people so easily while we're at war."

"Are you saying we should extend some special protection to them?" she asked, trying to figure out where her advisors were going with this.

Yaku hesitated, then said, "May I have a few minutes to discuss this with the other advisors?"

Her eyebrows came together, but after hours of sitting, she was eager to stretch her legs. "Discuss it here. I'm going outside." She jumped down from the throne and hurried down the steps, being careful not to let her oversized robes touch the flames. Her Royal Guard oriented themselves around her, as if an assassin was just going to explode through the window and put a bullet in her back.

There was a door to the garden on the north side of the room. Taemin approached it, listening back as the advisors spoke amongst themselves. Several families' names came up, none of which she knew. How am I supposed to find time to study when I'm expected to preside over court all day? I can't look like a fool in front of these people, not when the Fire Nation needs me. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip.

"Admiral Rozen," she said, stepping outside. Sunlight glared at her from the west—a formal funeral service would be held for her parents later tonight, once it was dark enough for a funeral pyre.

"Yes, my Lady?" The brown-haired woman lifted her visor so Taemin could see her face.

"What are they talking about back there?"

A strange look crossed Rozen's face. "They are discussing what will be done about Earth Kingdom families within our borders."

"Yes, but what are they suggesting? They can't think we have enough forces to give each family personal guards, can they?"

A grim mask covered Rozen's face. "No. I cannot imagine they'll do any such thing."

"Then what are they planning?"

Admiral Rozen turned to her, removing her helm. Her dark hair unfurled in waves down her armor. "Lady Taemin, I have little training in political matters, so please, do not think my guesses are to be given much weight."

"I'd like to hear them."

Rozen's eyes flitted back to the door. It closed with a sound of finality. "I think they intend to expel any earthbenders and their families from this nation."

Taemin blinked. "That's impossible."

"It's been done before. Six-hundred years ago—in the border clash between our nation and the Earth Kingdom, referred to now as 'the Storm of Burning Stones.' Three-hundred square miles of land, right between the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation. When we triumphed, we expelled or executed every earthbender remaining in the conquered territory."

"So you're saying they're going to do that now, after six-hundred years?"

"I am merely saying there is precedent. I do not wish to use such methods, but as the Fire Lord, you have a duty to consider all options in order to win this war."

"I won't allow it," Taemin said, turning away and stalking across the garden. It was tiny compared to the palace gardens, and had no turtle-duck pond.

"As you wish, Lady Taemin."

Fire crawled to her fingertips, flaring there and warming the air around her fists. I must stay in control, she told herself, closing her eyes and calling calming images to her mind: a beach glittering with obsidian shards; a turtle-duck swimming up to her feet to pluck bread crumbs from her outstretched hands; her mother, Lady Alasane, coming to her chambers to tuck her in. But when she imagined her mother opening the music box to lull her to sleep, the image glowed orange around the edges, and she saw only fire.

"I want to go back to the palace," she said.

"The funeral will not be held until later tonight. Until we've made sure you'll be safe from assassins, we can't go," Admiral Rozen said.

Taemin's shoulders slumped. I want to go home, she thought. I don't want to be in this wretched place anymore. I want to go home . . .

She sat down on the grass, letting the cool blades tickle her fingers. Slowly, she exhaled, just as Sifu Xaris had taught her. No one's mentioned him since the attack, she thought. He's probably dead.

Smoke rose between her fingertips in elegant tendrils. After a moment, the grass next to her hands flared to life. The sudden rush of heat brought her out of her grief long enough to yank her hand away.

"My Lady!" one of her guards called, rushing to her aid. Taemin stared at her reddened hand with growing horror, the pain registering in her mind. Tears blurred her vision.

"Get a medic!" someone ordered.

"Lady Taemin, are you all right?"

The tears rolled freely down her face now, a display of weakness visible to the world. Hastily, she turned her face to the ground, dragging her sleeve across her eyes. "Leave me be," she said. "I will accept treatment, but leave me be."

Her Royal Guard hesitated. She was about to give the order a third time when they fell into two neat rows behind her back. She exhaled, purposely letting a tongue of flame shoot out of her lips. I must remain in control of myself. I must not cry again without purpose.

A door opened behind her—the one leading back into the temporary throne room. In seconds, a blue-eyed woman knelt by her side, a bowl of water in her hands. From the woman's pale skin and sharp features, Taemin guessed she was second- or third-generation Fire Nation, but descended from one of the water tribes. What will we do with all the mixed families in this country? Taemin wondered, thinking back to her last moments in the temporary throne room. And what am I going to do if my advisors want to expel them from the Fire Nation?

"Hold out your hand, please," the waterbender said, dipping her fingers in the clear liquid and pulling it from the bowl. Unaccustomed to taking orders, Taemin hesitated. After a few seconds, though, the lingering sting of her burn forced her to obey. The water glowed where it touched her skin, cleansing the wound, healing it, knitting flesh together. Water, the antidote to fire.

It gave her an idea.

"Admiral Rozen, summon my advisors to the garden. Tell them it is a matter of utmost importance."

"Yes, my Lady." Admiral Rozen strode into the throne room, one hand on the hilt of her ceremonial sword.

Taemin turned to the healer. "I'm sorry if this seems abrupt, but do you have any connections to water tribe nobility?"

The healer looked up from her hand, startled. "If I have any, they are too distant now to be called connections, my Lady."

Taemin nodded. Perhaps another avenue, then. Yes. We could send a hawk . . .

The door came open again. Admiral Rozen held it open for the advisors. Yaku came through first, followed by a bald man whose name Taemin didn't know, along with three advisors who she recognized by face if not by name. When the water stopped glowing, she stood and turned toward the five of them. "Your names. All of you."

"Yaku Senshi, my Lady."

"Henso Kizu," said the bald man.

"Xu Lo."

"Zhi Zhu."

"Araneo Lux."

Taemin nodded, memorizing the names so she would not make mistakes later. "Have you decided what to do with the Earth Kingdom families within our borders?"

"Not as of yet," Henso said. "We are still considering several options."

"Very well. We will discuss those options tomorrow at sunrise. Right now, there are more important matters to discuss."

They glanced at each other in apparent surprise. Yaku looked uneasy. "Yes, my Lady?"

"I would like to discuss the possibility of bringing the water tribes to our aid."

Her advisors let out a breath. Henso spoke. "Your father sent birds asking for an alliance months ago, in the event another war should start. I'm afraid their replies were . . . unfavorable."

"The chief of the Northern Water Tribe is married to one of ours, correct?" She paused, waiting for them to tell her she was wrong, that all her attention in history class was for naught and that she was mistaken in this crucial point. When they did not interrupt her, she went on. "We can use that as leverage."

"A single marriage does not cement an alliance," Yaku said. "You know that."

She flinched at his tone, backpedaling. "I do not wish to align with their nation. However, if there's any way to enlist their services, we must consider it. This war will come at great cost to the Fire Nation if we charge ahead thoughtlessly."

"What are you suggesting?" Xu Lo asked, lifting her brown eyes to meet Taemin's.

Taemin turned away, focusing on the broad leaves of some unidentifiable plant. "Even if we can't forge an alliance, we can hire waterbenders to join our troops."

"As mercenaries?" Yaku questioned.

"As healers. Medicine has advanced considerably since the last war, but if there's no one in the battlefield to give first aid, all our technology will be useless. Waterbenders can heal—we can minimize the loss of life for our troops."

"All excellent ideas in theory, but you've forgotten only a handful of waterbenders can use their bending to heal, and those that do are likely utilizing that talent in their own professions."

"Then we will pay them enough to make them leave those positions." She stepped forward. "And we will pay those skilled in the healing arts to train any with the potential for it."

Yaku squared his shoulders. "Lady Taemin, this is absurd. This war will be expensive enough without handing gold to every untrained healer that comes our way."

"Then we will make the Earth Kingdom pay reparations when we conquer them."

"What if we lose? The Fire Nation will be in debt for decades!"

"Find a way to make it work. Use whatever leverage you can, and make up the rest in gold. I will have healers among our troops."

Araneo tapped Yaku's shoulder. "Perhaps our young Fire Lady has more wisdom than you suspect. A corps of healers will provide a great service if we can predict where the battles will occur."

Yaku glared at Araneo. "If you wish to ruin this nation from within, do it with cleverness instead of base flattery."

Araneo raised one thin eyebrow, lip quirking to the side. "Are you accusing me of treachery, Yaku?"

Taemin stepped forward. "Enough. I know my father paid you to argue, but we will send hawks requesting service from the water tribes. That's an order."

Yaku looked down, chastened. Taemin felt an odd flutter in her chest, a sensation similar to an adrenaline rush, but backed by fierce pleasure rather than fear. Fire played at her fingertips, in sync with her breathing.

Is this what power feels like? she wondered, a shiver running down her back. Her fingers flexed.

"So it's decided, then." Taemin turned toward the court scribe, who was holding several scrolls awkwardly in his hands, lacking a podium and a typewriter. "Write a letter to each of the water tribes requesting their healers' services."

"Yes, my Lady."

She nodded, her stomach rumbling. "Excellent. As for the rest of us, it's time to break for lunch."

Ferron's stomach snarled, a noisy reminder of his long-denied hunger. When he looked up at the setting sun, his vision danced with black dots.

"We're near the port," he said, blinking rapidly to clear the dots from his vision. Hazy buildings rose from the horizon. According to Terrin's map, the structures belonged to Port Yodo.

"Yeah, but we're not going to make it tonight," Terrin said.

Ferron stared at him. "What do you mean? It's right there."

The earthbender rolled his eyes. "Don't you know anything? We can't even hear the sea where we are—we can barely see the city, and only because it's a clear day."

"We'll make it."

"Give it up. We should make camp before the bugs start coming out."

Ferron shook his head. "It can't wait. They've probably already noticed I'm gone—we need to get as far from Ba Sing Se as possible."

"What, you think someone's coming after you?"

He hesitated. Terrin sounded so scornful, as if he didn't really believe someone would come looking for him. Yet by now, the Dai-Li were surely on their way, seeking him out, narrowing down the paths he could've followed. It's a miracle they're not here already.

"Is someone coming after you?" Terrin demanded.

"I . . . I'm not sure. The Dai-Li came to my house the day the Earth Kingdom went to war. They're probably looking for me." They'll probably find me within a few days, if I don't get out to sea.

Terrin rounded on him. "You idiot! They're going to find us and drag us both back to Ba Sing Se!"

"Not if we make it to the coast."

With a movement too fast for his eyes to track, Terrin lunged forward and shoved him. Ferron staggered back, arms wheeling as he struggled to right himself. Instead, he fell backwards onto the path, scraping his palms on the gravel in a botched attempt to soften his landing. Almost instantly, something shot up into his back, driving him to his feet once again. He gasped, head whipping around to see the object that had forced him up.

A slab of rock jutted up from the path, right where he'd fallen. If it had been there when he'd first hit the ground, it might've broken his shoulder. Instead, Terrin's earthbending had pulled it up and, like a springboard, it had forced him to his feet.

"You should've said something earlier," Terrin snarled.

Rocks crawled up around his ankles, pulling him down. Ferron struggled to free himself, only to sink deeper into the ground. The tight-packed earth wrapped around his abdomen. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving you here. The Dai-Li will pull you out when they find you." The earthbender turned, grabbing his backpack from the ground and stalking down the path. With a final stomp, he buried Ferron up to his neck in stone.

"Where are you going? Come back, this isn't funny!"

"If you can't get yourself out, then there's nothing you can do to stop this war."

"Stop it! You've had your fun, now let me out of here. Please . . ."

Terrin just kept walking.

"Come back! Joke's over."

The earthbender didn't even turn.

Ferron's shouts died in his throat. His lungs convulsed, drawing in air despite the tight wall of stone wrapped around his body. When he finally realized Terrin wasn't joking, his face fell forward.

The sunk sank beneath the horizon, the last fiery fingers of light fading from Ferron's sight. In the distance, he heard the rumble of rocks grinding together. Terrin was probably using his bending to speed toward Port Yodo. Of course he'd leave me here, Ferron thought. I'm useless to him. I'm useless to everyone.

Beneath the surface, his fingers twitched. The earth is loose, he thought, remembering the night Sifu Fane had imprisoned him up to his waist to teach him earthbending. Freya had eventually come to his aid, and his hands had been free, but perhaps the softer ground would yield more easily than the compact earth of Ba Sing Se's earthbending academy.

Focus, he told himself. Prove Terrin wrong. Prove everybody wrong.

He exhaled, closing his eyes. His fingers twitched again as he searched for faults in the ground. The rocks crowded around his chest, putting pressure on his lungs. Asphyxiation wasn't his preferred method of dying, but as unskilled as he was, he had to consider the possibility that trying to free himself would only crush the air out of his already compressed lungs. I have to be careful. I have to do this right.

His fingers nudged the loose rock aside, this time with a more purposeful movement. He managed to create a pocket of air around his fists, managed to free his hands of the sharp pebbles digging into his skin. There.

He inhaled, then exhaled, trying to ignore the pressure around his chest. Terrin had really buried him deep. Even Sifu Fane wouldn't have done this to me . . . He twisted his fist, focusing his energy to his knuckles. Sifu Fane had always talked about bringing the energy from inside his body to the surface, where he could use it to bend, but he'd never really grasped that concept the way she'd wanted him to. It was too abstract. The movements required to bend made sense; the idea of chi moving through his body like blood didn't. No scientists had ever dissected a body and found the tunnels where the chi was suppose to flow. It was a theoretical science.

A myth.

He sighed and lowered his forehead to the dirt. "This is so stupid."

In the distance, a badgerfrog croaked.

If Ferron had been able to move his arms, he would've punched something. All of this was stupid. Terrin was right—he should've never been born the Avatar. If it hadn't been for that fluke, that one little puff of flame he'd produced when he'd tried to fight the bully, the world still wouldn't know he was the Avatar, and no one would've cared how weak his bending was.

You're weak. You've always been weak. His eyelids slid shut.

He breathed. Opened his eyes.

That sounds like something Terrin would say. His fist clenched unconsciously at the thought. The rocks around his hand shifted a little bit, as if repelled by his anger.

"Kind of pointless now, isn't it?" he muttered, head rolling to the side as if that would somehow dislodge one of his arms. He chuckled bitterly. "Not like it even matters. The Dai-Li will find me soon." His laughter shook, morphing into a sob. Humiliated, he pressed his face to the ground to stifle it.

After a time, his body relaxed. Pangs of hunger, somewhat forgotten in his futile escape attempts, drained his willpower. I should've just taken the food when Terrin offered, he thought dismally. But the offer had come last night, when his hunger had been only a distant misery. Now, as he meditated on it, it sapped what little energy he had left.

Hunger had been a familiar companion to him, ever since he'd been old enough to distinguish it from the too-brief feeling of fullness. Yet it was a poisonous friend, keeping him company while chipping away at his resolve. The longer the poison festered, the harder it was going to be to get out of here.

At home, his mother had always been there to help him up, despite her own shortcomings, or his friends. But here, abandoned in the wilderness, there was no one to rely on except himself, and the dim possibility of a returning Terrin. Any other outcome was unacceptable—he would not be dragged back to Ba Sing Se like a prisoner to his cell, and he would not allow himself to die here, within sight of Port Yodo.

As soon as I get to the city, I can get something to eat. But first, I have to get out of this pit. He looked up to the sky, breathing. Celestial events had no bearing on earthbending, though he knew from school that firebending and waterbending were affected by the sun and moon. Earth is stubborn. Rocks don't change without great forces being applied. That's why they use rocks to make buildings and walls. Because even after everyone leaves them behind, they stay standing.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His fingers curled into a tight fist, and he hit the loose rock as hard as he could considering his limited mobility. He felt something give way, felt a tiny fissure open up near his hand. His eyes flashed open, staring at the surface as if the crack extended far enough to be visible.

His heart fluttered. Weak after over twenty-four hours without food, the jump in his heart rate was almost painful.

Ferron shifted his hand again, trying to widen the hairline fracture he knew he'd created. He felt . . . something. A strange shift that seemed to resonate within his body as much as from the ground. Is this what Sifu Fane meant when she was talking about chi? he wondered, breathing harder now. Despite the cracks forming around his arm, the pressure around his chest hadn't eased, and drawing breath was growing more difficult as he devoted his energy to freeing his arm.

But he kept going, striking the sides of the ever-growing hole around his hand. After half an hour, he began to see tiny cracks forming across the surface, as thin as a strand of spidersnake silk.

Prove Terrin wrong, he told himself. Prove everyone wrong.

Another punch, then another.

One hour, then another.

Like the hand of a corpse reaching up from its grave, his arm broke through the top layer of rock. He stared at his hand for a long moment. His fingers were caked in dirt, which was covered in a thick layer of dust. Dried blood marked his knuckles, which were raw from the repeated impacts. The visible parts of his skin were either pale and blood-deprived or red and swollen.

But his arm was free, and now that it was, he intended to free the rest of his body.

Terrin made it to Port Yodo three hours after abandoning Ferron.

At this time of night, Ba Sing Se would've been silent, patrolled by the city guards for people out past curfew. The few that were permitted out of their homes would either be busy working, or selling contraband to whoever would buy it. Even after two centuries of supposed peace, no one had gotten around to getting rid of the Black Market. I bet business is hot, now that the war's started.

Unlike Ba Sing Se, Port Yodo functioned throughout the night. Terrin saw ships moving near the docks, saw crewmembers loading and unloading goods. He even saw an old military ship, converted into a lobstercrab vessel, being examined by a man in green armor.

He slowed. Unlike Ba Sing Se, the city gates were low and made of metal. Rust coated the iron bars, the corrosion occurring even more rapidly in the salty air.

Security had evidently corroded as much as the bars, because no one stopped him as he stepped through the gates. That'll change soon, with the war. There won't be a single port not protected by soldiers.

Terrin hurried through the darkened town, glancing around at the unfamiliar sights. For all his father spoke of the Earth Kingdom's greatness, their family hadn't left Ba Sing Se since he was old enough to remember. The rigging of the ships he'd only ever seen on TV loomed over him like badgermole claws. Elephant rats skittered across the ropes and into tiny cavities in the ships. A messenger hawk cried out from a wheelhouse window, clutching a scroll. The smell of fish hung thick in the air.

Terrin moved deeper into the city. Almost immediately, he came upon the row of shops, selling all sorts of goods.

"I'm looking for a way to Republic City," he said to the shopkeeper nearest to the docks. Given that he sold fishing hooks and nets, Terrin could only assume he knew something about crossing international waters. "Where can I find a boat?"

The wrinkled man grinned at him. "Oh, there aren't any boats going to Republic City from here, boy. Port Yodo used to be a military station, back during Sozin's War."

"What about the fishing vessels?"

"All full and on their way out within the week, for lobstercrab season."

Damn it. His fingers flexed. "Is there any way I can get to Republic City?"

The old man shook his head. "Not from here, no. But you can go to Port Mao. They're still giving rides to anyone with enough Yuan. It's only a day's journey by ostrich-horse." The man pointed. Terrin turned to see a stable full of ostrich-horses, manned by a haggard woman with graying hair.

"Thanks," he said, laying several coins on the counter.

Looks like I won't have to go on foot after all, he thought, grinning.