Yay! I updated in what, like, a week or something? Seriously worked on this all day (or tried to, at least) so hopefully it's up to par! Thanks for reading, please review!
PS. It's the one you've been waiting for.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Fractured Falling
Katara lifted her skirt and stepped over a guard with his throat slit, the blood not yet congealed. "This was recent," she whispered, her hoarse voice carrying over slaughtered bodies, stagnant with their absence of breath. On Ji and Aang flanked out beside her, silently taking in the gruesome scene before them. She raised her palm and traced the path from the heel of her hand to the spot between her fourth and fifth finger- the door that lay ahead of them, splintered off its heavy metal hinges, dead men slung over the handles and bolts. "Someone was here," she declared softly. Her heart beat faster as she briefly allowed herself a moment to wonder if her brother was in the room beyond.
"If this happened recently, we need to move quickly. The guards switch at a quarter past midnight, and it was already five past when we started. These guards were either new, or whoever was supposed to relieve them is on their way," Aang said, crouching by one man, a look of grim determination on his maturing features. He gingerly picked up one of the small swords the guards wore on their hips. The end of it was jagged, as if it had been sliced through, and the blade was smeared with blood. "Wow," he said quietly.
"Aang!" On Ji cried softly, and Katara's head snapped up. The younger woman was kneeling on the ground, her face paler than usual, her fingers tipped red, but gripping a small set of keys. Her eyes rose to Katara's as Aang jumped over, and she shrugged helplessly. "They were on his belt. I…" she trailed off, listening to a murmur as it grew louder. Her eyes grew wide. "The guards," she mouthed, her voice already silenced by terror.
"No- Katara, they're-" Aang started, but she was already moving.
"No time, keys!" she shouted, and Aang snatched the bloody metal from On Ji's unresisting hands and threw them to Katara as she bolted through the doorway. She caught a hasty glance at the strangely inverted and folded crevices in the walls and a line of cells before the door on the opposite end of the room burst open, whirling disks of fire careening toward her. She yelped in surprise and dove to the side, colliding with the wall, pushing off it as another wheel rolled at her. That was a narrow miss, and she felt more than heard Aang and On Ji come through the door and engage in battle. Guards poured out of the entry, lining up and marching forward with every blast. Smoke, air, and metal filled the air, everything blurry, surrounded by noise. The waterbender lunged forward, her shoulder catching the edge of a blade, and found herself crammed against the bars of a cell. A body collided with her, and she stabbed it with a knife from her belt, only to realize the woman was already dead, her armor dragging the both of them down.
Katara twisted and her clothes caught on something, throwing her back onto the ground. She snarled and slashed around with a surge of water, rage hardening her face into a hateful scowl. She felt impact and flipped up just in time to watch a guard fall, to see On Ji thrown against a wall, to hear Aang's tortured yell. There was a flash of light, and she was blasted back, smacking the back of her head on the bars as something cut across her cheek.
Everything slowed down- she fell, turning midair, clutching at the cell bars to keep upright. Sluggish and disjointed, time flew past her. The metal was cold and rough beneath her fingertips, feeling more like wrought iron than anything else. In the midst of battle, there was no noise- a hollow ringing in her ears, and not much else. Katara's head hung between her shoulders, arms risen above to hold her body off the ground, certain if she fell, it would be a while before she got up.
With a pull that started in her lower back, face pinched with effort, she raised her head, and froze. He was looking right at her. He was looking right through her.
"Sokka," she croaked, and her brother blinked groggily, a faint smile appearing on his cracked lips. It was then that she remembered the keys, and knew that she no longer had them. How do I save him? she thought wildly, but then something happened that brought her painfully back to the reality of the situation.
She'd seen Sokka cry many times. He was, though he'd never admit it, an emotional kid growing up, often running away after an incident only to be found an hour later, sobbing in the snow. He'd sniffle and pout, trying hard to hide his tears, certain that warriors shouldn't grieve publicly. As they'd grown older, he'd learned to compose himself more, think through his emotions instead of letting them control his actions.
But as the battle waged behind her, with its distant chaos and slow-moving pace, she watched tears bead in his eyes, roll down his cheeks. "Katara," he mouthed, his arms chained up on either side of him, his hands purple from lack of circulation, his body worn and beaten down.
She couldn't feel her legs and sagged against the cell door, noticing a deep gash in the metal right in front of her nose. A gash- something that weakened the metal. Her mind split into a hundred different directions at once, flashes of memory mixing with present initiative until she was nearly pulled under by the familiarity of her actions.
There had been someone here before them. Slashing her sweat at the bars, ripping a few more millimeters into the metal with each swipe. Her brother, hanging by his hands, his eyes desperately transfixed to her face. The feeling of finding out her father was in Boiling Rock. The sounds of battle, just beginning to fade back in, and realizing that time was once again speeding back up to normal pace, too quickly for her to act. Zuko taking Azula's lightning, unexpected, too fast for her to save him.
"No," Katara breathed. She'd be the savior this time. Sokka leaned towards her, and Katara pressed against the bars, wishing he were out and in her arms, such an intense need to have her brother safe and sound. It was then that with a sick lurch of her stomach, she realized something odd. Both her and her brother's arms were strung above them, shoulders back, their legs sagging.
She'd been mirroring Sokka since she fell against his cell, the spitting image of a person done in and defeated. Something in the air shifted almost imperceptibly, like that moment of hesitation before a weighted scale tipped completely.
Something shot through her arm; burning so badly that for a moment she thought it was really fire. She grasped the flesh and blood spurted between her fingers, running around a small blade that was jammed hilt deep in her shoulder. She screamed in pain and fear as a heavy figure ran at her, and with one swift movement she ripped the knife from her own wound and threw it. It landed, and so did the man.
Bile rose in her throat as her head whirled, and she realized with a start that she was bleeding worse than she'd thought. Removing the knife carefully wouldn't have helped, but the jagged way she tore it out elevated the problem to be potentially life threatening. She'd seen men die from less. All at once, her head was clear, blissfully technical, removed. She had a few minutes before her vision would blur, another few before she'd be unable to move efficiently. She needed to get Sokka out, flee from this hellish place.
Aang was beside her, yanking a near-catatonic On Ji behind him protectively. "Get him out!" he yelled, and Katara knew the younger girl wouldn't last much longer, regretting them bringing her at all. She went to work without fear, knowing she'd be safe under Aang's protection, her hair whipping around her face as his blasts of icy, howling air kept the guards and their weapons at bay. She raised her good arm and found the crevice in the metal bars that had already been created, and whipped water back and forth against it until they broke.
"Aang!" she yelled, and they switched places effortlessly, her weaving deadly needles out of ice, pinning some soldiers to the wall, noticing that fewer and fewer were coming out of the door, that some of them seemed to be falling without her even having to attack them- one of them fell flatly towards her, and her movements froze for a moment as she saw the moony, shimmering metal blade lodged in the nape of his neck.
With a mighty shake and a groan that rumbled through the mountain, Aang pulled a wedged shape of rock from the ground and squeezed it against the bars where she'd slice through them, and they began to bend, creaking with their resistance. She looked back to the soldiers, too late, heard On Ji's scream as a spear narrowly missed her right leg. The wedge stopped moving, Aang distracted by his love's yelp, and Katara felt rage and frustration come to a peak. She bent low to the ground, her legs wider than a usual stance, her hips pushed back. She swept both arms, ignoring the pain, towards her, as if she was scooping up a bundle of cloth, and the liquid in the room scurried across the floor to her.
And when she stood, so did the water, the blood, rising in a great wave before her, the blood quickly dissipating and tinting the water pink. And when she flung her arms out in front of her, lunging forward, twisting and wrenching her arms into vivid, windmilling circles, the roaring water twisted into a dragon, writhing around the cavern, picking up bodies and debris. She tossed them around, slamming into the walls, the ceiling, and all at once, froze the liquid with a heave and a breaking of something inside her. Pain lanced at her wrists and back, and she thought hollowly that when this was all over, she'd never willingly push herself to this.
In the brief silence, Katara turned to On Ji, who was gazing at her in awe and terror. Aang was inside the cell, fists encased in stone, wrenching apart the rings on the shackles and groaning with the effort. Sokka's body dropped like a stone, and Aang staggered under the weight. On Ji didn't move, and Katara grit her teeth. "Go help Aang! I'll cover the exit!" She could already sense the fractures in the ice she held together, the struggling bodies crying out and trying to escape, the lifeless bodies weighing her structure down. She couldn't hold it.
Two bodies flitted into the room, pushing a heavy wave of flames before them, so hot that a new line of sweat broke out on Katara's brow. Her arms trembled, and she knew if she had to release the pressure, the fight would go on as before, and they just might lose someone. The flames cut suddenly as one of the men sagged over, an arc of blood splattering onto his comrade's face just before he too fell forward, ripped from his spirit.
She felt her friends press close behind her, and Sokka's cool, shaky fingers pressed against her arm, smearing her blood and bringing a staggering relief to her mind. It was only a few feet to the door, and then a run through the tunnels. They could lose the guards in the city. "Go! I'll finish them and follow, go now!" she shouted over her shoulder, and leaned forward, pressing up against the ice hanging before her, wincing as she felt the give of bones, the snap of sinews. The air was suddenly full of screams, and she sensed Aang and On Ji behind her, moving towards the door. Aang wouldn't hesitate, she knew. They were old enough now to know that that's what got people killed. She stood in front of them, staring at the men left alive in her grasp, and held the position as they began their move down the hall. She could hear the clang of heavy footsteps moving both away from her, and towards her, a thunderous approach of more soldiers, surely brought down by the noise.
Her bad arm gave, and she lost control, her eyes widening in horror and disbelief. All at once, bodies fell from above and swarmed in from the door, again and again, like a dangerous undercurrent on a peaceful shore. Her mind far away, her body did what it could, blasting and ripping, scuttling away, dragging itself upright into an ungainly run-
And then there was someone running beside her, his arm under hers, pulling her along and ignoring her cries of pain. Black gloves grasped her and an electric blue face leered down at her as they ran, sending dizzying relief straight to her fingertips. It didn't matter that the last time she'd seen him, he'd run. It didn't matter than now that she knew Zuko was alive, she knew she'd never be able to be with anyone but him. And the warmth she felt bursting in her heart, that love that held her fast to this mystery at her side- maybe, in the end, it wouldn't matter that she was being pulled in two different directions. "Blue," she gasped, and just then he pivoted, reaching behind him and unsheathing his Dao swords to strike a fire blast away in one smooth, practiced movement. She skidded to a halt and drew her water as fast as she could, slamming it into the ceiling, finding small cracks in a millisecond, then freezing, expanding. She felt the seams crack wide open just as a rumble filled the air and dust scattered down. The guards behind them skidded to a halt, their black armor glinting in the torchlight, warily staring and drawing their assorted weapons over their shoulders.
Then, rocks tumbled down from the ceiling, blocking the guards' path behind them as they struck forward, as the few last weapons whizzed through the opening. Triumph sparked inside her, even as she heard the wet slick!, even as she sensed Blue falter beside her. By the time she turned her eyes to him, the needle was already exiting through the back of his throat as he clapped a hand to the entry point, blood burbling betwixt his fingers.
"Blue!" Katara screamed. The man turned and continued to run doggedly, and she went after him, watching him lunge left between the cracks of the wall, into a hidden crevice she hadn't known was there. She didn't have time to wonder how he did- she wiggled in next to him and found herself in a little chamber lit only from the entry. He faltered and she sprang towards him, catching him as he fell, laying him down on his back as his fingers scrabbled at his throat. "Stop, let me see!" His hands fell away and his body jerked- he was choking. Her own deadly wound meant nothing to her then, and she drew the blood up and out of his mouth, the heavy liquid pressing against the cloth and seeping through. Muffled shouts surrounded her, and she realized that though they were safe for another few minutes, it wouldn't take long to clear the path. They could find them, easily, and she didn't have the time or strength to heal both of them.
Her decision was swift, and carried surprisingly little grief with it. As she leaned over him, she silently said goodbye to Lani, who would be abandoned by her parent once again, and to Zuko, who she could only hope would be found and restored by one of his new secret keepers. In fact, when was the last time she'd really concentrated on saving herself? She'd lived so long for others that this last decision meant nothing- just the continuance of an ending pattern.
She couldn't work through the mask. The fabric of his shirt bunched around her hands, and the water glowed faintly in accordance to her weak movements. One last promise, broken- she just might see the man's face through the inky darkness before she died. His hands fluttered around hers, but he didn't grab her as she lifted his head and untied the straps of the mask.
She heard a faint clink, and her heart stuttered, knowing that nothing was between her skin and his. She swept one hand along his face, felt rough stubble at his cheek, a perfectly straight nose, and the smooth skin of his closed, trembling eyelids. He arched beneath her as her hand drifted to his cheekbone, and she snapped back to attention, hating herself for needing to see him, feel him when she could be working to save his life.
She threaded his blood back where it came from, the instinctual movements almost easier in the darkness. She felt, rather than saw, the blood begin to clot, and concentrated harder, pushing back the edges of her vision. She heard a crash and knew the guards were close to breaking through. She didn't have time.
Water glowed brightly in her hands as she began to knit his skin back together. It took only seconds, the hole being no bigger than the needle that pierced through him, but by then the water was already tinted with blood, both his and hers, and was glowing an eerie purple.
A tendril of liquid broke off from the main swirl, and she watched as it crept up, following the lines of his neck, seeking the back of his head. She felt something there, like a knot cast in iron, and gently stroked at it, testing its give. As she had with the stone ceiling, Katara felt for cracks, imperfections in the mass, because whatever it was, it was unhealthy, alien. Déjà vu hit her hard and fast, and her fingers twitched.
With that one small movement, Blue groaned and relaxed, his body no longer straining, and the knot splintered apart in her grasp, her healing waters chasing away the tension, the clotted flows of something spiritual. And then it was over. She knew she needed to get out of the crevice before the guards broke through, or there was a very real possibility they would find both of them. She needed to lead them away, as far as she could.
"Get out when you can. I'm sorry," she whispered frantically in his ear, her hands still at his throat, and Blue groaned against her. It would have to do. She stood, wavering, and slipped halfway out of the chamber.
Wait. She looked back, hesitating to leave, and raised her hand, the purple water still swirling around it, waiting to heal the pain it sensed within her. It shone into the little room, a risk she couldn't keep herself from taking. The light cast over two legs in black pants, a torn shirt ripped down around a pale, muscular chest, the newly healed wound in his neck. She saw a strong jaw, a prominent chin, and a mouth that seemed instantly familiar. Something was growing in her mind, her heart. Something big.
She leaned in, and the light fell over his face. Katara stood very still, yet her world did not, spinning and crashing around her as everything clicked into place. His scar was gone and his eyes were closed. He'd grown in the past few years, his features broader and stronger, peaceful in sleep. But still, he was there, alive and well, breathing, warm, solid. A lie and the only truth she'd ever known, all wrapped into one.
Her heart felt a pain deeper and more intense than any longing, than any sadness. He was right there. "Zuko," she moaned, agony ripping the name from her lips, and before her muscles could lock her into place, force her to stay with him and let them both die, the waterbender tore herself from the room and began to run, slamming against the walls, tripping over her feet. She kept one hand stretched over her shoulder, keeping her wound contained as much as possible, and felt a miniscule amount of strength return. The rocks gave and she heard a roar of victory as she pushed herself harder. They had to follow her, had to hunt her. She would draw them away and hope that whoever he thought he was, Zuko would escape safely.
She wasn't running for her life. She was running for something infinitely more important than just her.
"Stop!" they were yelling behind her, and she bared her teeth in a fierce smile. Did they really expect her to listen? But they were close, and her steps were beginning to lag. She crouched down, slid the last knife from her boot and turned, ready to take down anyone she could, but they were already upon her, hands shoving, gripping, pulling. She was down on the ground, her face twisted in pain, refusing to cry out. They wrenched her arms behind her, twisted cords around her wrists, and it was then she realized that they were not going to kill her outright.
She could think of only one reason to keep someone like her alive- information. Plans, secrets, and memories she would never give up, but they would never stop trying. Katara began to struggle wildly, desperately, and heard the jeers of the guards as they began dragging her back down the hall. "No!" she screamed. "No!"
As they rounded the corner back to the room where the fight had occurred, she scanned the walls to the left. Her broken body was humming with need, anticipation, fear- but they passed the crevice without noticing anything, and she was afraid to look too long. The man dragging her had fallen behind the rest, and he worked with his head down, huffing and puffing, her dead weight obviously a trial for him.
So she was the only one who saw the man in the mask slip out from the hole in the wall, leaning heavily against the stone, his black-hole eyes sinking into hers. She stayed silent and held her breath as tears sprang to her eyes, knowing she may not ever see him again, wishing she could see his face. But he just turned and ran the moment before she lost sight of him around the curve.
I did it, she thought. I saved them.
And with that, she allowed herself, finally, to be pulled under.
I hope you enjoyed reading this more than I enjoyed writing it! Please review! Thanks for sticking with me, everyone!
