Chapter 35 – Homecoming

"Stop squirming!"

"Miyo, I can take care of my own hair." Hikoshu winced as she yanked hard to dislodge the comb. It called on all of his willpower to resist grabbing it from her.

"You've only ever known one hairstyle. It's like a banner just shouting your name." She pulled away long enough to eye him in reproach, then returned to tearing his hair out of his scalp in order to wrap it in a large knot on the top of his head.

"Your hairstyle's named after you?" At the other end of the saddle, Natquik looked up from his careful ministrations of Miyo's poorly-repaired glider, a half-blackened sail in one hand and a large chunk of burnt wood in the other. "You really are famous."

"I'm also bleeding." He had to admit, it was rather nice not to have his hair blowing into his face, for once. But he really wished it hadn't given him such a good view from Rosma's back of the distant skyline, uninterrupted by clouds or mountains. A moment later, Miyo blotted out the panorama, shifting from her position behind him to one directly in front of him. She pushed at his shoulders with bare arms, her shawl discarded in the saddle next to them, and squinted her eyes at his new image.

Engrossed in her examination, she prodded at his jaw and pulled at his ears. Then, content that he looked entirely unlike himself, she gave an approving nod. "It's not much, but maybe enough." Hikoshu really wasn't sure if it was. A stubbly goatee and a true top-knot wouldn't fool anyone. In reality, he had to count more on the fact that practically no one in the Fire Nation had seen him in four years.

Natquik seemed to agree. "He looks like a more fashionable Hikoshu, but he still looks like Hikoshu." The waterbender waved a blackened hand toward him. "You can't change the way he holds himself."

"I don't need to change everything about him. Just enough that he can sneak in and out, and fast." She grabbed her comb and moved toward Natquik. "You're going to be a little harder, I'm afraid."

"Is that a joke at my expense?" He wiped his grimy hand on his pants, the charcoal smudging against the sealskin, and rubbed at his cheek. Though the swelling had gone down, the area was still a blotchy purple and yellow, the fading remnants of his fight almost two weeks prior. Miyo pushed both his unworn parka and the glider out of the way, careful to avoid its charcoaled-colored sails, and crawled almost into his lap.

"Not a joke. Even if I could cover you up, you'd probably show off to some Fire Nation women and give yourself away."

"That sounds like jealousy." He then hissed as she pinched his chin sharply and forced his head one way, then another. "Could you at least let me shave myself?"

"She'd never spare you the humiliation," Hikoshu said, and chanced leaning across the saddle in order to retrieve the glider. While under Miyo's care, Natquik wasn't going to get much done on the sails, and so he took up a charred bone, letting it smolder in his hand before he began to color over the orange fabric. There was no way they could sneak into the Fire Nation from above if the glider stood out in the dark. This trick, however, was fast and impermanent; exactly how Miyo wanted it.

"There's really no hope for you," Miyo said somewhere beyond his focus, and he heard Natquik softly grunting. "I can fix everything about you, but your skin and build would still give you away immediately. What we need is a large, heavy cloak."

"I had one of those," Hikoshu said, glancing up. "But I left it burning in a library."

"Not very helpful," Miyo sighed, then wedged herself between Natquik and the saddle. He purposefully didn't make room for her, flashing Hikoshu a look of shared anguish. Finally, though, she managed to seat herself behind him, and jerked his head backwards with her comb.

"Ow! Alright, I agree! It's hopeless. Could you just leave me alone, then?"

Hikoshu rubbed at his nose, belatedly remembering the charcoal now all over his fingers. "It doesn't really matter how disguised we are. I don't think it'll make this plan any worse than it already is."

"Well, how do you suggest we go about finding out where they're holding the Water Tribesmen?" Miyo punctuated her sentence on Natquik's head, and with apparent patience, he let her. "Land and ask for directions?"

"Seems just a bit smarter than sneaking into a prison to ask for them."

"Honestly, Hikoshu, there is no better plan. We could spend weeks trying to find them if we use too much stealth, and we don't have that time. Better if you and Natquik just get in there-"

"And what? Search jail cells until they figure out two random men are walking the halls?"

"Don't forget, you were the one who said this Mazo Prison, or whatever, is the only place that they could hold a foreign bender." She pulled the wood comb out and pointed it at Hikoshu. Natquik stared at it balefully, as if prepared to snap it in half. "Besides, you said you knew the bending tunnels."

"But guess what. So does every other firebender!"

"We're not arguing about this."

"Yes, please, Hikoshu, don't argue about it." Natquik glared at him, then flinched as she yanked on his head once more.

Hikoshu wasn't prepared to drop it, though. "I just don't see how a plan, lacking any foresight or real knowledge, is going to work."

Miyo stopped long enough to level a frown at him. "When have you ever needed foresight, or even a plan, before you charged headlong into something?" Then, returning to her occupation, "I seriously don't know where this newfound hesitation is coming from."

The truth of the matter, which he would admit to himself if not to her, was that this was the first time he really knew how much was riding on his chance of failure. After all, if he was captured, not only would he be letting down Chian, the Water Tribes, and Yan-lin, but he also risked the chance of being the one who broke the Cycle. Rather than Sidhari, he would be remembered as the Avatar who failed the world.

It was a lot of responsibility, and slowly, he'd become less certain of his success in the last week.

"Alright," he said with vague frustration, "let's say this actually does work. Let's say we find them and rescue them from their dark and dingy jail cell. What then?"

"Disguise them and bring them to Rosma."

"Who'll be on the other side of the island with you."

This was the part that frustrated him the most. Reluctant to have Miyo in danger, he had insisted she take Rosma and wait for them somewhere safe, away from firebenders. But, of course, Miyo wasn't willing to just sit there idly. And after nearly a week of arguing over it, he had given in.

Still, she couldn't sneak into the prison with them – if they were hard to hide, she'd be impossible – so they then argued over what she could do. The answer turned out to be very simple. Somewhere inside the Fire Temple, there was somebody on Hikoshu's side. Someone who had worked closely enough with Yojing in his final days to be entrusted with his last message, and someone who was loyal enough to wait two years to send it.

Hikoshu couldn't search the Temple; his biggest chance of being recognized was by a Fire Sage. But Miyo could. To anyone looking for Hikoshu, she'd be just an unimportant woman, alone on a bison. She could easily play the part of a touring nun and gain access to the Temple on the pretense of a brief visit. And while she was there, she could search for Hikoshu's unknown supporter.

It was a small chance; after all, Hikoshu had never spent much time at the Fire Temple, so his knowledge on his master's former haunts or the layout in general was shaky. But when he was younger, Hikoshu had been forced to pass hours in one particular study, pouring over scrolls to find the answer to Yojing's newest riddle. At times, the answer would be just a sentence, and at others, it would be a handwritten note by Yojing, tucked inside a roller. If there was any place left on the Dragon Island that would hold a clue to the mysterious confidant's identity, that study would be it.

If that study was still in the same condition as it was ten years ago. If Yojing had still used it in his last year spent in the capital. If he had written down that person's name, and if that person were still at the Fire Temple. Or still alive. So many 'if's that made the likelihood so very small.

But if she could find the person, he might be able to help them find the hostages. And if Hikoshu and Natquik were caught, Miyo was going to need some help rescuing all five of them. The risk she'd have to take for such an improbable outcome seemed worth it, in that case.

None of that made him any happier with the plan, though. To him, risking Miyo would never seem worth any later convenience.

Which was why her frown looked so bothered. "You told me you could get to the Fire Temple."

"I could, but that's not the point."

"If I'm still stuck playing the part of a naïve, Eastern Air Nun," she began, with a stiff yank on Natquik's head, "then you'll just have to take Rosma and go. I'll come up with a reason later for why my bison's missing."

"It's wonderful how she sacrifices herself even before we're at the Fire Nation," Natquik said, then gave a sharp yelp as she pulled too strongly. "Miyo! Please!"

"You know, you never see Rosma whine when I brush him." She shoved his leather tie into her mouth, twisting his hair up into a knot similar to Hikoshu's.

"I'm starting to think Rosma's a bit of a masochist for letting you."

"If you can't bring yourself to fly him," she ignored Natquik's joke, tugging on the topknot, "then you find a boat. It might take me days to leave without raising suspicion. But surely, between all of you, at least one can sail a boat."

"And go where? We'd never make it to the Air Temple."

"Hikoshu, what's with this last-moment insecurity?" Satisfied, she climbed over Natquik and planted herself in front of him again, twisting his face to study the bruise. "We've already been over this. You'll just go to your old fishing village and wait for me there."

"Are you talking to me or him?" Natquik asked, staring at her from the corner of his eye.

Hikoshu sighed. "Me, obviously. And I'm just worried that it's all going to go wrong."

"Of course, it is. No plan ever goes right, no matter how perfect it is." She rubbed her thumb under Natquik's eye, as if that would reshape it into something more Fire Nation-esque. "Speaking of which, you still haven't made a decision on what to do if Yan-lin's not with the Tribesmen."

"If she's not there…" Preparing for the inevitable fight, he turned his gaze back to the glider. "Then Natquik should take his family and leave without me. It's more important that they escape."

There was a long pause, as he'd expected, and studiously, he worked at the sails. But the next person to speak was Natquik, instead of Miyo.

"So, then, what's the contingency plan where I get left behind?"

"No one's getting left behind." Miyo was chastising. "And Hikoshu's not going to do that just to save Yan-lin."

Hikoshu automatically bridled at her tone, throwing a frown up at the back of her head. "I'm already risking myself to save the Tribesmen. I don't see the difference between them and her."

"What I meant," she quickly retracted with a glance over her shoulder, "was that we'll worry about those things later. It's more important that we focus on what we have to do now."

"You mean the plan you've said is already doomed to fail?"

"Look, I know it doesn't have a lot of finesse." Miyo dropped Natquik's head in exasperation, twisting toward Hikoshu. "But face it, we're never going to save anyone unless we get in there and get our hands dirty."

"Hikoshu, she's right on this. It's the only way we'll get anything done." Natquik hardly resembled a Fire Islander, with his swarthy skin and thin stubble, and Hikoshu had to suppress a sarcastic laugh.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll get plenty done, looking like that."

Miyo gave him a glare, holding Natquik's shoulder with one hand. "I'm not finished yet." Gasping, she looked back in surprise as Natquik lifted her naked arm, a finger curiously tracing her tattoo.

"Do those arrows go all the way to your back?" He earned a sharp slap on the offending hand.

By the time Miyo was finished with him, not an hour later, Natquik still didn't look like a Fire Nation citizen. But insisting that with the right clothes, he could be passable – "at least in the dark," she added – Miyo declared him to be a success and moved on to making herself look more Eastern Air Templish. This seemed to be an involved process, as she borrowed one of Natquik's knives and proceeded to cut her old shawl to pieces. For another two hours, she hid at one end of the saddle, using Natquik's sewing kit to put the shawl back together, while Hikoshu blackened the glider and the bored waterbender fidgeted with his waterskin.

When she was done, as far as Hikoshu could tell, she really didn't have a shawl at all. She'd cut it up enough that there wasn't any fabric in the front of it, the edges meeting at a point just below her high collar. And she'd also removed the fabric along her arms, leaving both limbs exposed from under the shawl. Finally, she had secured the whole thing to cloth bands around her wrists, rather than tucking it into her front sash, which created a look that was altogether alien to Hikoshu. Especially since he hadn't, in three years, seen Miyo wear anything so different.

"The Eastern Air Temple is a lot more humid, so less clothing is better," she explained as she plaited her hair with strips of extra cloth. "This really is a pale comparison, but it should fool most non-airbenders."

"I'm definitely fooled," Natquik said, re-rolling the excess twine. Hikoshu wasn't paying attention to either of them, though; he'd thought he'd seen the dots of islands on the horizon, and now he watched vigilantly for signs of the archipelago.

Eventually, emerging from the haze, the sharp peak of what could only be a volcano appeared in the distance. At first, he wasn't sure if it wasn't just a trick of the light from the setting sun, but as it grew more distinct, his heartbeat grew faster. They'd passed islands for most of the day, yet he knew that this island had to be part of the Eight. They were getting closer to his old home.

With a glance around the saddle, he saw that, in the ensuing time, Natquik had fallen asleep and Miyo had returned to guiding Rosma. So there was no one to point it out to. Not that it mattered – this discovery was a personal one, anyway. Studying it carefully, he tried to determine the island by the shape of the mountain. It could be Camelephant Island. But the peak was too sharp, and this far West, it could be Dragon's Fang. Wasn't there a white-cap on the Fang, at this time of year? He wracked his memory, trying to recollect every facet of the Fire Nation's geography.

Another island became visible on the skyline, its mountain worn and half missing from a recent volcanic explosion. Even at that distance, he recognized it immediately as Danke Island – Eggshell Island. Named after the broken crater of the volcano. No one lived on it, except migrating birds and sealguanas. But it was familiar, and he loved it as if he had grown up there, himself.

As the afternoon wore on, the light faded, and soon dusk swallowed everything but the surf-break on rocks just off the various shores. Still, he searched the horizon, hoping to catch a glimpse of any other outlying islands. Perhaps if they were closer, he could make out the lights of towns. The moon, however, was absent, and any distinguishing feature was covered in darkness.

Close to midnight, Miyo finally crawled back over the saddle and kicked Natquik awake before seating herself.

"We're not far from the capital," she said, grabbing one of Hikoshu's packs – the one he hadn't used since the North Pole – and digging blindly through its contents. It took a frustrated frown from her before he obliged to light a small flame. "Do you know what to do?"

Natquik answered for him. "As we've been over it a dozen times?" He didn't seem eager to do it once more. Miyo pulled out a large crimson robe and tossed it to him, which he caught less than gracefully. In the firelight, Hikoshu recognized it as the outer robe of his old ceremonial garment, partly destroyed in the fight at the North Pole.

"He can't wear that. That's part of a Fire Sage uniform."

"He needs something to cover up with, Hikoshu, and I don't think the guards are going to test his firebending." Miyo didn't even look up as she fished out a darker-colored sash for Natquik. "If anything, they'll be wondering why he's wearing a torn up, oversized robe."

Natquik shrugged innocently as he donned the robe – which was, in fact, too large for him. But in the dim light, it was hard to tell by how much. Fortunately, though, its large size meant that it covered up most of his blue clothing and made him blend even better in the dark.

Tying the pack up, Miyo turned to Hikoshu. "Are you ready, or do you need more practice?"

"How much more practice could I possibly get up here?" He knew exactly what she was referring to. And the thought of it made fear clutch his heart. While they were still over land, he had worked on learning how to use her glider. In reality, he'd only practiced with it three times, and every occasion was from a height of no more than fifteen feet. Thus far, the end result had always been painful and embarrassing.

So the answer to her question was, no, he wasn't even nearly ready. He felt a knot clench up in his stomach every time he thought about the glider, and he'd gotten very good in the last few days at not thinking about it at all. Currently, the only way he would go through with it was if they tied him to the staff and shoved him out of the saddle.

But there was really no choice. He couldn't ride in on Rosma – a bison landing on the prison would be rather conspicuous.

"It's dark down there, but you can see the lights through some of the windows and around the walls. Just fly the glider toward it and try to hit the upper floor." Miyo was distracted as she crawled over to him and began smoothing his red-and-gray layman's attire over his chest. "Fewer guards will be patrolling that, as they don't expect anyone to sneak in through the roof."

"Miyo, I know this." It was then he realized how nervously she fiddled with the lapels of his outer-robe. Catching one of her wrists, he forced her to look up at him, and finally saw the anxiety that she'd managed to hide in the dark.

"Don't hurt yourself," she said in a half-whisper, and then threw her arms around his neck, wrapping him in a hug that nearly drove the breath out of him. She held him like that for several, very painful moments, and he held her back, letting his fire go. If nothing went right – and the odds were that nothing would – he wasn't likely to see her again.

Abruptly, a steep fall on a glider was no longer the scariest thing in the world.

Natquik's loud throat-clearing brought them both back, and Hikoshu relit his fire as she awkwardly released him. They sat like that a little bit longer, Hikoshu studying her face on the off-chance this was the last opportunity he'd have, Miyo picking at his robes.

"Hey," Natquik said into the uncomfortable silence, an injured, possibly jealous note to his voice. "I'll be plummeting to the earth with him, too, you know."

"Excuse me," she murmured, her fear replaced by playful amusement, and she crossed the saddle to Natquik's side. He actually seemed surprised that she'd responded, and even more shocked as she crawled into his lap to undo the sash around his waist.

"Miyo, wait, what are you do- ow!" She'd retied the sash, putting a little extra force into cinching it, and he winced as his mid-section was crushed.

"Firebender knots are symbolic and traditional. You can't use just some old Water Tribe knot."

"But now I can't breathe!"

She gave him a mock pitying look, cupping his cheek, then folded her arms around him as she had with Hikoshu. Natquik's hands appeared around her waist, but his face was obscured by her hair, hiding his expression. Hikoshu figured that it was probably a happy one.

They both stayed in that position for a little longer than a friendly-acquaintance hug should've lasted, and the sudden quiet left Hikoshu feeling very out of place.

"Do you want to hug the glider now?" he asked, and they broke apart immediately, Miyo shooting him an embarrassed, agitated look as she slipped back over the saddle. Natquik was more confused than anything, gazing after her before he turned a wry grin on Hikoshu.

"How do your ribs survive?"

"She's very affectionate," he agreed, reaching for the glider. "Now if only she could use that power against her enemies."

"Both of you get ready," she called from the front, her voice partly muffled. "The lights of the bay are coming up."

And the knot was in his stomach again, twisting his abdomen until there was no room left to breathe with. Paralyzing fear seized his legs, making them feel weak and useless, and he wondered if they'd have to roll him out of the saddle instead. The idea of that caused his head to swim.

Natquik, he realized, stood over him in the dark, reaching down to grasp his arm and haul him to his feet. Reluctantly, Hikoshu gave in, and the world swayed around him. Now confronted with it, he could barely register the scope of what he was about to do. Refusing to think about this plan had not helped to reduce his apprehension.

"You'll be alright?" Natquik was saying, and Hikoshu nodded feebly. The staff was slick in his hand, covered in sweat, and he almost asked to cancel the plan for fear of his hands slipping on the bamboo.

There's no choice, he repeated to himself. This had to be done. And he was an airbender! He could airbend himself to safety, if he needed to. And it would be dark, so he wouldn't be able to see the ground.

That, unsurprisingly, did nothing to relieve his terror, and it took him a moment to notice that Natquik was still talking.

"We can't do this if you aren't confident. I have no intention of dying tonight."

"I'll be fine." Even he knew he didn't sound fine. Natquik suddenly seemed just as anxious as he, and the waterbender hesitantly tied the safety line between them that would keep him from falling away from the glider. Hikoshu could tell he was wondering if it'd be better just to take his chances with falling, rather than being tethered to someone this untrustworthy.

"Hold on, I'm taking Rosma lower!" Miyo called, and they barely had time to grab the edge of the saddle before they descended. She took it slowly, though, Hikoshu's stomach churning not nearly so bad as usual. He knew she was doing it for him – trying to get him as close as possible without being seen and without causing him extra stress.

That was already too late.

As Rosma leveled off, Natquik and Hikoshu both stood again, Natquik's hand tight on his elbow. As if afraid he would faint and tumble off the bison.

"Hikoshu, go now," Miyo stuck her head over the edge of the saddle, her face filled with dread. Swallowing hard, he airbended the glider open, the snap of its blackened sails making him jump. Natquik reluctantly took his shoulders from behind, and Hikoshu grabbed the bamboo spines.

Then, squeezing his eyes closed, he took a deep breath. And another. And emptying his mind of everything, he airbended himself out of the saddle.