Chapter Twenty-Five

"Can't even throw a few fireballs without getting burned," the healer muttered as she wrapped bandages around Zuko's arm. The salve had cooled the afflicted area, and the burns were minor, more like a sunburn than anything else. "You could do something constructive to blow off steam, you know. Like fixing the cracked siding, or putting down a new floor so I don't get splinters in my own house. There, you're done." She folded the bandages one final time, tucking the loose end under the edge of the wrappings.

"Thanks." Wishing he had long enough sleeves to cover up the bandages, he went outside and sat down, leaning against Appa's soft fur. The bison made a contented grumble, a sort of greeting sound, then closed his eyes in sleep.

No one else was around. Sokka had run off somewhere, probably hunting again. Ty Lee was probably off chasing butterflies. When he'd seen his uncle this morning, the old man had been digging in the herb garden for tea leaves, but it was quite possible he was examining Toph's earthbending techniques again. Uncle was always trying to learn new techniques. I suppose I should be grateful for that. His techniques must have saved my life a dozen times by now.

Katara was nowhere to be found. Daylight streamed down from the sun, directly overhead. He doubted she'd go running off into the woods again while she was still recovering from the last time. At least, he hoped not. Seeing her lying bloody and still on the ground, thinking she was dead . . .

He shook his head to clear it. It's not like she's suicidal or anything, he reasoned. And besides, I'd be able to find her even if she did run off. It's the middle of the day.

He closed his eyes. Pictures of her body lying limp on the forest floor, and the blood spattered across the leaves, flashed across his eyelids, a nightmarish sideshow. His fingers coiled, nails digging into his palm, and he forgot about the burns on his hands for a moment.

He sat there a while longer, trying to ignore the thoughts bouncing around in his head. After a while, the daydreams faded, replaced by that layer of consciousness between sleep and awareness. Snippets of action passed through his mind, forgotten the moment he surfaced enough to think of them. Fire dancing across a long stage, sunlight glaring through metal bars, a circle of gold reflecting a flash of blue . . . All slipping through his fingertips the second he tried to understand.

Only the last image remained. A face with a dark complexion, and deep brown eyebrows. A pair of eyes blazed brilliant blue, staring back at him, like lapis lazuli reflecting the sunlight. And then, as if it had only been a shape in a puff of smoke, the face was gone.

Sokka

His boomerang smashed into the bird's neck, making the bones snap like an arrow striking metal. The feathered piece of meat dropped out of the sky before the boomerang returned to him. Once he'd caught it, he tucked the sharp weapon into his belt strap, and went over to retrieve his prey.

The ocean water lapped up at his feet as he ran across the beach. The salty smell reminded him so much of the brine of the South Pole. It seemed strange that the waters of the Fire Nation would remind him so much of home, but he found himself thinking of the many fish he'd speared back in his village, and the taste of stewed sea prunes on his tongue. Except this isn't my home, he told himself. And it never will be.

He bent down to pick up the bird. His eyes scanned the horizon for ships, as he did every few minutes. A warrior could train under many masters, persevere through dozens of disciplines, but there was no point in such skill if you could not detect your enemy in time to strike.

There were a few ships on the horizon, close enough to the island to give him pause. Fire Nation ships patrolled these waters every day, though, both leaving and returning to port. Besides, he was wearing Fire Nation clothes, stolen from someone's clothesline; he had no reason to fear these few ships when they would likely not identify them.

He had almost decided to ignore the unconcealed threat until a bolt of lightning shot up from the deck of the largest ship, splitting the sky in two.

Sokka dropped the bird, fear shooting through his body like the electricity had shot through the sky. "Oh, shit," he whispered, his legs turning toward the mountaintop even as he contemplated the meaning of the bolt. "Oh shit." He sprinted up the stone steps, heart racing even faster as he drove his numb legs into the ground. The trip up the mountainside was harrowing enough at walking pace. Running uphill, even for a warrior in his prime, was almost as hard as climbing up the cliff on the other side of the island. Before he even reached the halfway point, his lungs were burning, and black spots danced in front of his eyes.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Another step, then another. He almost threw himself up the next step. Why the hell would someone live this high in the mountains? How can that healer possibly expect her patients to make it up here? Another step. His foot came down hard on the stone, and he tumbled forward, his elbows smashing into the ground with jarring force. Blood dripped down his forearms, slick and sticky all at once.

His fall must have been awfully loud, because Zuko came to the top of the steps, looking confused. "What happened?"

Sokka stood up, his legs almost collapsing under him, and dragged in a deep breath. "The ship . . . Azula's ship. In the bay."

Panic flickered across the firebender's face. "Shit."

My sentiments exactly. "Get Katara. I know where Ty Lee and the others are."

To his credit, Zuko didn't even hesitate. His body whipped around as if guided by an outside force, and he broke into a dead run into the woods, where Katara had gone only an hour ago.

Sokka hobbled up the final steps, trying to move faster even as his lungs struggled to drag oxygen into his body. More spots swarmed in front of his eyes as he reached the top of the steps. Once the ground leveled out, he made himself run again, clutching his side as his muscles started to cramp.

The water tribe warriors had congregated in tents behind the healer's hut. He went to them first. "Everyone," he began, relieved to hear how steady his voice was, in spite of his breathlessness. "We have to get out of here, now. Azula's ship is sailing for the island, and she's got more boats behind her. Appa won't be able to carry all of us, so you need to get down to the docks on the other side of the island and get out of here."

Surprise flashed across each of the warrior's faces, and for one awful second, Sokka thought they wouldn't listen to him. They still see me as a little kid, he thought, in the pressing silence. They won't follow me. I'm not my father, they don't respect me.

And then they started moving. One man snatched his pack from the ground. Two more started tearing down tents with a fervor and efficiency that only existed in times of desperation. Another man donned his leather vest and an ivory helmet.

Sokka made a split second decision, trying to fight against his relief. There wasn't time. "Get as far away from here as possible. When you meet up with my dad, tell him I'll be waiting at Chameleon Bay until the Day of Black Sun. Tell him to garner as much support as possible for the invasion." There goes the early infiltration plan, he thought, mourning the abandoned idea. Ty Lee had worked with him all night to iron out all the details, and the plan they'd hatched had seemed golden. But it didn't matter now.

"I'm going to find the others. Chameleon Bay, don't forget." He turned toward the barren cliff where Toph liked to work on her earthbending with Iroh, feeling like he'd already lost too much time giving out orders. For all he knew, Azula's ship could be docking even as he ran.

Toph will feel me coming, he told himself. She'll know something's wrong. That would save him a few minutes at most, but in war, single seconds could mean the difference between life and death, victory and defeat. As soon as he met up with Toph and Iroh, he'd have to find Ty Lee, wherever she was, and regroup with Zuko and Katara. And after that, they had to make it back to Appa so they could fly out of here.

He couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of time.