Writer's Note: Finally, an update on this piece that I haven't updated in over two years! Although it's one of my more popular pieces, and relatively easier to write than most, I've struggled intensely with this next chapter, not because I lack the creativity, but the drive and desire. It's been really difficult lately, with personal issues here and there, but I think I've finally managed to churn out a decent enough update for this story. If it's not up to the rest of the story's quality, it's solely due to my own lack, and not the source material.

That all being said, I do apologise very much for such a long wait for a chapter that may be crap. I hope it was somewhat worth the wait, if not for this chapter, but for the return of the story nonetheless. I thank you for coming back to this story after so long a wait. You are truly excellent people.

Note: This chapter contains spoilers for several parts of Book One, and some foreshadowing of Book Two. Please be advised on this.

Twenty

A Lotus tile. A small, insignificant thing that could be picked up pretty much anywhere in the Earth Kingdom, and here Iroh not only had decided he needed one right away, but that it was worth changing the entire course for it.

Zuko momentarily was blinded by the wonderful urge to set the world's supply of Pai Sho tiles to flame forever. Enough that he had to actually growl out the said fire he wished he could use.

Iroh took it in stride. His intentions weren't exactly honourable, though they had a root of truth to them. While he definitely needed the Lotus tile – for more than just a difficult play – he also sensed that a break was strongly in order. Jee had complained to him just how aggressive Zuko had been of late with his training, which was unusual, giving the fact that for once they were seemingly ahead of Zhao. But Iroh knew a whiff of dissension when he heard it, and he took seriously the risk of mutiny.

Also, he was deeply worried about his nephew. He wasn't sure why Zuko was suddenly so angry – though he could guess several dozen reasons – but it was enough to note that maybe having solid ground under their feet could calm the exiled prince down – or, if not him, at least Jee and the rest of the crew.

He hoped.

But Zuko was still angry. When he left his uncle to the rest of the game he wouldn't be able to finish, he was still imagining ridding the world of Pai Sho, as well as feeling that nauseating feeling of dread and lost time. Zhao was older, stronger, and far more powerful than Zuko, despite his recent good luck against the commander. He figured it was only a manner of time before Zhao – and Kohaku, now, he thought with a chill – not only caught up to them, but beat them down.

Especially after what happened at the Solstice.

He reached his rooms before he even knew it, and it startled him out of his dark thoughts. The very sight of his closed door made him come back to himself. Without an ounce of control, he leant against it, his forehead pressed against the cold metal. He shut his eyes, his hand upon his chest, tracing a familiar shape beneath his sweaty training shift.

Kohaku sipped his mug of tea slowly and deliberately, his eyes narrow and sly, his mouth keeping its tight grin as he drank. The tea was rather good, though he didn't know what it was called – he never cared for that sort of boring thing – but he knew that he deserved the best, so he wasn't surprised that he had received it.

Zhao stood before him in the conference chambers, speaking passionately and smoothly about their plans. Kohaku listened with half an ear, his mind already a few steps ahead of Zhao's rather simple and almost dull plan, tweaking it here and there, waiting for Zhao to finish before setting his mug down. Oh, Zhao wasn't stupid – quite the opposite, in fact. His cleverness and deftness in the battlefield spoke for themselves, and of course Kohaku would never ally himself with a fool, and however loose a temper Zhao may have, a fool he was not.

Zhao stood up straighter, his eyes on the all-but-named Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. The face before him was sharp, bearing the irritating visage of the brother that was best left unnamed. Kohaku's face was far more intimidating than his twin's, despite being without any scar. Perhaps it was that perfection that made Kohaku seem far more frightening, a face that, like his father, hid a banked flame of power and cruelty. A face so perfect hiding so malformed a spirit, but a spirit one could sense all the same.

Kohaku grinned, as if sensing these thoughts of himself. It wasn't any secret that Kohaku was cruel, especially amongst those who watched him grow up at Firelord Ozai's side. Perhaps the biggest difference was that, usually, Ozai's cruelty usually held purpose, whereas Kohaku had already proven that he was that way just because he could be.

"It's a good plan," said Kohaku now, his eyes never leaving the commander's. "But it's not great. I need a great plan, Commander. One that doesn't have holes poked into it before it even begins."

Zhao blinked slowly. Because his hands were behind his back, he was able to hide his momentary flash of anger at being second-guessed from his face, thought he felt his hands still burn from the insult.

Kohaku knew, but said nothing. He merely grinned wider, the kind of smile Zuko had worn when he gained the upper hand during his second Agni Kai. Only this version was actually threatening, instead of merely proud.

"I think we need to spread our own network of people to infiltrate every single colony in addition to your plan," Kohaku said, rising slowly to his feet. "We need eyes in every single place so we can see the entire world at once. That way, if the Avatar sets foot in any of them, we'll be the first to know."

Zhao wasn't sure why he said what he said next. Maybe it was his irritation at seeing a confident version of Zuko, or maybe it was something to do with power, but he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"And your brother?" asked Zhao, as mildly as possible, his hands still hidden behind his back.

Kohaku's eye twitched, and his smile twisted. His eyes blazed, and Zhao finally saw in that gaze what made Kohaku so different from Zuko.

"My brother," Kohaku spat out, his voice a vehement growl, "is a useless leech, an exile, a traitor, and a fool." His hands, still wrapped around the tea mug, tightened. The smell of over-boiled tea filled the air, steam accompanying the acrid stench. "He is barely clever enough to get dressed. He will never catch up, but if we do encounter him…"

He glared at Zhao, then grinned. Wordlessly, he tightened his grip on his mug, and it shattered, boiling tea splashing down upon his hands. The sting of it was well worth seeing Zhao's face whiten, and see him swallow hard.

His actions spoke louder than words. They always did.

Zuko hated looking at it, but there it was. He hadn't told Iroh yet. But he knew he would have to, if what he thought was a good plan would work.

But all Zuko wanted to do was throw the damned necklace he had found to the sea, where it belonged. It was beautiful, that he had to admit. The stone, some kind of soapstone common in the South, was shined and coloured to match the brightness of a noontime winter sky. The strap, obviously one that had been replaced more than once, was worn and made of weathered animal skin.

It was clearly an item well-loved and well-respected. And he had taken it from the one who clearly loved it: the waterbender girl, Katara.

He felt like such a rat-mouse, keeping something he knew without a doubt would be missed. But if the rumours he kept hearing were true, then he needed it. He would confirm his plan while Iroh was finding his stupid tile.

He pushed it back into the drawer it remained in. Turning his back to it, he tried to rest until they reached land.

His mind, when trying to deflect from that guilt, would then fall back onto what he saw when running from the Temple: a Royal Barge, one that he was somehow so sure was his twin's. So he then decided that maybe focussing on the necklace and what it was going to do for him was better than being scared of Kohaku.

But then, all he felt was guilt. His eyes remained open.

Zuko watched the long train of what looked like garbage being carried by his own crew back into the ship, while Iroh watched gleefully.

Then he saw the last item Pon was carrying, and he groaned. "No," he snarled, turning to his uncle. "I am not playing that! I am not taking part in any stupid music night!"

Iroh raised a brow at him, fanning his face casually. "We need music, and you're the only one who can truly play the horn without sounding awful!"

"I'll mess it up on purpose," warned Zuko darkly.

"You will not," Iroh answered easily. "You like music far too much to purposely ruin it."

Zuko scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, unable to reply – because damn it, it was true. All of it.

"Did you even find your tile?" Zuko finally demanded.

"Alas," Iroh replied, fanning his face more vigorously. "There was no luck."

"Great. I'm so glad that this was a complete waste of time not just for me, but for everyone!"

Iroh waited until Zuko took a breath, then raised his other brow and said, almost too casually, "Except for you, no? Why include yourself when you have succeeded?"

Zuko started, his eyes flaring wide. He turned to Iroh, who smiled faintly. "How did you-?"

Iroh merely smirked. "Well?"

Zuko sighed. He realised he would never, ever truly be able to fool his uncle about anything, even something seemingly harmless as this. "I've heard rumours of a bounty hunter with a beast that can find anyone at all by scent. All I need is something the person touched for that scent."

Iroh nodded slowly. "And what do you have?"

"The girl's necklace."

Iroh was silent at this, closing his fan with a sharp flick of his wrist. "When did you get that?" he wondered.

Zuko frowned. "After we visited the earthbender mines. I didn't steal it, if that's what you're thinking." When Iroh raised one brow, Zuko had to protest further. "I didn't! I found it on the floor of one of the frigates they used!" Iroh stroked his beard thoughtfully, seeming to accept this. Zuko sighed. "It's all I have at the moment, unless you have better ideas."

Iroh didn't look at him. Inwardly, he was hoping this little detour would be a good distraction for Zuko. He hadn't said anything since they had seen the Royal Barge, but he didn't have to: Zuko's face was strained enough from his own thoughts. A reminder of who else was now chasing them would help little. It was just as well that neither of them wanted to discuss it, since Iroh wasn't sure anything he said would help. He, too, was deeply disturbed by Kohaku's sudden appearance.

Instead, he said, "So when do we do this thing?"

Zuko paused, pressing his lips together tightly. "As soon as we get out of here," he answered, looking around. He didn't like the feel of the port, the look of the people. He knew, better than anyone, that it was never wise to judge by appearances, but this went beyond that. There was something unsavoury lying beneath the skin of this port, and he wanted to get out as soon as he could.

Iroh nodded slowly, his hand still upon his beard.

The green eyes burned. It was the only way to describe the light in the young man's eyes as he stood, alone and weaponless, before Kohaku. It was strange to use a fire description for someone so obviously not worthy of fire, yet there it was. It was fire, pure and simple, that burned within the young man's eyes.

Kohaku looked away briefly, enjoying the effect it had on the other. He flushed, his hands reaching for hook-swords no longer at his sides, but on the ground before him. Kohaku's eyes raked the treetops surrounding them, but true to his word, he had come alone.

"So the plan is simple," Kohaku began, looking to his listener from the corner of his eye. "We'll set up a small group within your forest. You and your group will stake them out, all while waiting to see if the Avatar and his friends decide to walk. If they do, find some way to lure them to the camp. I don't care how, use whatever you know."

The young man was silent, so Kohaku went on.

"From there, do everything in your power to keep them there until we arrive to finish the job. Understand?"

"My Fighters have a raid planned for the town next to here," was the blunt answer. "One that involves several of your own comrades and a lot of water."

Kohaku turned to him, not liking the glint in those eyes. What was the use in telling the Prince of the Nation you hated that you planned to blow up one of their bases, when you've already been contracted to help them?

"Blowing up the dam, are we?" Kohaku wondered idly after a moment. When the other smirked, Kohaku nodded. "Fine." What was one backwater town, with backwater people, to catching a weapon to safeguard hundreds like it? "It would make a good cover if you're discovered working for us."

"And what if you stumble on him first?"

It was a good question, one that Kohaku considered carefully. "I'll send someone ahead of me, someone unthreatening, that you can pretend to fight off when receiving my message. You know," Kohaku smiled slowly, "so that your friends don't suspect you the traitor you are for the Nation you hate."

Jet's fists clenched so tight, the usually warm walnut brown of his skin turned white around the bones.

"I of course don't expect you to do this for free, Jet," Kohaku added, pulling a face and making it appear that he was put out by this. "If you manage to do this successfully, not only will you get to blow up one of my towns, but your little ragtag of pests will be left alone."

Jet's eyes blazed, his mouth trembling once. Just once. "You swear? Forever?"

Kohaku grinned wider. "I never tell lies."

It would only be later, when it was too late, that Jet would understand that Kohaku's answer wasn't really an answer at all.

Zuko cursed his luck. He knew no good would come from that trip to the port, despite his search for the rumoured bounty hunter. He should have known that Zhao would have placed spies in every port. Spies that had access to hawks. Spies that also knew how to fight.

Spies who also liked to dress and act like pirates?

Nevertheless, there he stood, looking overly large and looming in such a small shack. It was a last-minute detour from the ship, one that Iroh had insisted on visiting, on the off-chance that the missing tile would be there.

"So," Zhao began casually, looking as if he owned the entire port from where he stood, his hands behind his back and flanked by two pirates with such red lips that Zuko wondered if they wore lipstick or were just gifted with such lips.

"Commander Zhao," Iroh bowed, just low enough that Zhao would be pleased, but not too low to suggest that Iroh was pleased. "What a surprise to see you in this small port."

"What are you doing here?" Zuko snarled instead, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I could ask you the same," was the commander's cool reply. "It's a shame you managed to survive the explosion at Crescent Isle, only to end up among thieves."

"Hey!" protested one of the pirates, a gentleman clad in greens that clashed with his ochre lips. "Noble thieves!"

Iroh raised a brow at the commander. "You do not see the irony of this, Commander?" he wondered.

"Oh, I'm always familiar with irony," Zhao answered, which really wasn't an answer at all. "And luck."

"What do you want, Commander Zhao?" Zuko asked this between his teeth, biting back both fear and curiosity. Why would Zhao be at this port, when he had made it clear that he wanted to do everything he could to find the Avatar first?

"You, exile, have something I need."

Zuko's blood froze, and Iroh dropped a very ugly ape statue to the floor, bringing protest from the head pirate and his parrot. "I don't know what you're talking about," he managed, but Zhao merely laughed.

"Don't even try it. You were seen picking up the waterbender's necklace. Hand it over."

Zuko thought desperately for a way out of this. Much as he hated the necklace, he knew it was his sole chance to find the Avatar. To give it to Zhao would strip him of even the last shreds of hope to gain the lead.

Iroh knew this, too. "Now, come, Commander," he began, his voice already taking the familiar calming tones so often used for his nephew's tantrums. "Why would you want any necklaces at all, when you can find so many other beautiful things here?"

"Enough of this imperial banter," broke in the leader of – Zuko couldn't help but think of them this way – the lipstick pirates. "The more you yammer, the further ahead that girl gets with my scroll."

"What?!" Zuko burst out, Zhao momentarily forgotten. "What are you talking about? The Avatar was here?!"

Iroh blanched. Clearly, he not only had thought such a situation possible, but also that he had missed the whole thing.

"Not even an hour ago now," the parrot's pirate replied gruffly. "Which is why we need that necklace now. My parrot here is good at tracking." He patted the ugly creature, which screeched out a bizarre cry that was half bird and half lizard.

Zuko opened his mouth, about to, without even realising it, explain a better method to hunt the Avatar down, but Iroh sudden grabbed his shoulder, and he closed his mouth.

"You had best do as he asks," Iroh murmured softly into his good ear. "If he knows about the necklace, he already is ahead of us. We will find another way."

Zuko felt his hands burn, but he shut his eyes and nodded. "Fine." He reached into his pocket and grabbed onto the necklace, wishing he had left it behind instead of bringing it to the port. Angrily, he threw it at the commander, hoping to hit the smirk from his face, but Zhao caught it easily.

"I thought as much," Zhao said easily, pocketing the necklace and gesturing to the green-clad pirate, who left in a hurry. "You never used to know when to fight. It's nice to see you've learnt it at last."

"Come on, Prince Zuko," Iroh said loudly, emphasising the title, though Zuko didn't know why and wished he wouldn't. "We had best leave."

"But, Uncle!" he protested, unable to hold back. Iroh shot him a sharp look, one that shut him up and got his feet moving. Iroh kept his grip on his nephew's shoulder tight, leading him out of the cramped space and into the humid air.

"Dammit!" Zuko shouted, slamming a burning fist into the side of the pirates' abode. Iroh hissed at him to stop and dragged him away.

Zhao watched with impassive eyes. Without looking away, he said, "Ready your ship, Captain. We have a legend to catch."

It was only after that Zuko realised that he hadn't asked Zhao about his twin when he had the chance. Now he was truly two steps behind, instead of the one.

Safe in his chambers, Zuko sat before his altar to Agni, trying to meditate but weeping instead. He was glad he was alone for this, as it was the kind of weeping that one would rather keep private, the kind that makes children of the strongest people. The tears of one wronged and helpless.

The door clanged in a familiar pattern that Iroh had begun to use when any regular knock brought on an open door and a burst of fire from it. Zuko sighed, rubbing at his face with his sleeves and trying to pretend that it had worked, when he really knew he was tearstained and red. When he opened the door, Iroh stood there beaming.

It was so inappropriate that it stunned Zuko. Clearly, he had been depressed. Clearly, he was in no mood for games. And since Iroh had his hands behind his back, Zuko guessed already what game it would be.

"No," Zuko snapped. "No music night. No tsunghi horn. Leave me alone!"

He moved to slam the door, but Iroh, undaunted, kept his foot in the way. Zuko was angry, but not enough to want to harm his uncle, so of course he jerked the door open again before he could.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh replied happily, as if Zuko hadn't just screamed at him. "You must come out now."

"Why?" Zuko burst out. He couldn't take it anymore. "I have nothing, Uncle! Nothing! I had one flimsy chance, and Zhao took it away! How does he keep outsmarting us? How can I possibly stop him?!"

Iroh looked at him, his smile fading. Very softly, because he knew how skittish Zuko was when it came to contact from any man, Iroh reached forward with one hand and used his own sleeve to wipe away the new tears upon Zuko's face. With the other hand, he shoved something into one of Zuko's.

Zuko's fingers closed over it instinctively, then recoiled, recognising the texture. He looked down and stared at the blurry image of the necklace – the one he had just given to Zhao.

"You gave him a fake," Iroh said happily. "I replaced this one with a fake when I figured out what you wanted to do with it. It's one I was… hanging on to for a while." Iroh looked to the side for a moment, obviously lying, but why, Zuko didn't know. He was still staring at the necklace. How had Iroh known before? When had he even snuck in to make the swap? Zuko thought of his uncle in an entirely new way.

"Won't he know when it doesn't work?" Zuko asked.

"No," Iroh laughed. "That parrot has no tracking skills whatsoever. That pirate is pulling one over on the commander. Pirates do that."

Zuko looked at him finally, smiling so wide it hurt. "So we have a chance?" he wondered.

Iroh beamed again, his eyes dancing. "Nephew, we always did."

"It's ugly," Kohaku held the necklace from the strap in disdain. It was a worn strap, threads unravelling in several places. The medallion itself looked so boring and so average that he wondered why such a hunk of junk would ever win a woman over for marriage.

"It's bait," Zhao replied calmly. "We also have a means. The girl stole a waterbending scroll from the pirates I hired as spies. They want the scroll back, and we want the one who stole it."

"No, we want the one who didn't steal it," Kohaku corrected. "How do we even know where to begin?"

"They cannot have gotten too far," Zhao replied easily. "In fact, I would wager they're still around. Just… in water."

Kohaku's eyes lit up. He tossed the piece of junk back to Zhao and nodded. "Let's get going then."