Chapter Fifty

Zou watched the Avatar's training from the top of a palm tree.

The steep challenges the prince gave the Avatar irked him, but he couldn't deny Aang was making progress. Zou could still see faults in the airbender's stances, and every time he breathed wrong, he gritted his teeth to keep from calling out a correction, but the boy's firebending was stronger, less timid than before.

Zou thought he'd learned to keep his mouth shut, that years of living under his father's roof as a burden and a bastard had taught him self-control, but the longer he watched the prince train with Aang, the harder it was to clamp down on his annoyance.

"Put some fire behind it," Zuko commanded, snapping into a front stance and shooting a fireball from his own fist. The glowing sphere shot across the beach, illuminating the pale sand and rising into the air. Zou wondered if the prince even realized how hazardous firebending at night was to their cover. Already, there were whispers that the Avatar had survived the assault on the Fire Nation on the Day of Black Sun. There had been a rumor this morning, when he'd made a run to the market to get into the group's good graces. Someone's friend of a friend had supposedly seen a giant flying bison heading west near their island. Which was quite likely true.

But he kept quiet. Stealth required the target to grow complacent. After losing the Agni-Kai against the prince, Zou wasn't ready to strike again. Not yet.

But soon, he thought, ever aware of the pressing deadline. It will have to be soon. If he survives past Sozin's Comet, it'll be too late to get him out of the way.

There was a small part of him that felt guilty for what he had to do. It had been Zuko's mother who'd permitted him to join the rebel forces, and it rankled him to hurt her like this. But Lady Ursa, despite her ability to weave an intricate, underground movement like a master artisan, had a blind spot when it came to her children. She didn't realize how much of the Fire Lord they had in them.

Ursa didn't realize that her children needed to die.

"Watch your stance," Zuko said, still working through the firebending form with Aang. They'd been practicing this one for an hour now, and the young airbender had managed to learn the movements, if not the finer details.

"Sorry," Aang said, sounding much more weary than apologetic. His attitude seemed so odd—he was the last hope for the world, and he was running on a tight schedule. If Zou had been in his place, he would've been eager to master the new form, would've skipped meals and sleep to learn it. Instead, Aang was holding back, as if he was more afraid of getting burned than of failing to stop Ozai.

"You have to keep focused. We've only got a couple weeks left before the comet. You have to face my father before then."

"My father." He still calls Ozai his father. Zou shifted with unease, the palm leaves shifting with him. When the prince glanced up at him, he froze. How did he even hear that? He was so far away.

"What are you doing up there?"

Zou bit his lip, repressing the urge to glare. It was imperative that the prince forget he was a threat, or he'd never be able to sneak up on him. He has excellent hearing. I'll have to remember that. "Just watching," he called in response.

"Well if you've got time to watch, come down here and help."

The invitation, and the annoyed tone that accompanied it, startled him. He watched uncertainly from his perch, trying to discern whether or not the prince was serious. When Zuko didn't turn away, Zou slid down the trunk and walked over. "What does he need help with?"

"Everything."

"Hey," Aang interrupted. "I can hear you, you know."

"Keep practicing," Zuko said, before turning back to Zou. "We've got to coordinate a better method of training. Working in shifts isn't going to do us any good if we can't get on the same page."

I don't want to be on the same page as you. Again, he held the words back. Make him trust you. Make him forget how much you hate him. "Okay, fine. What do you think he needs the most work on?"

"Defensive techniques."

Zou blinked. "You realize this is firebending, right?"

"I know. He's not going to be able to match my father in firebending, but if he can block or divert his attacks, he stands a much better chance of ending this war."

He frowned, considering that. It made sense—the Fire Lord had years of experience on Aang, so no matter how hard he trained, he wasn't likely to surpass his enemy. Not in that element.

"He also needs better motivation," Zuko went on. "I've gotten some results by reminding him what he stands to lose, but that's only going to hold up for so long. As soon as he loses his drive, he's going to lose his firebending."

Zou nodded. Drive was something he understood well. The Avatar presented a sort of enigma when it came to drive, knowing what was at stake without trying addressing the problem. "I don't know a lot about positive reinforcement," he said, since that seemed to be the only alternative.

Zuko flung his hands up in the air. Zou flinched at the sudden motion, feeling the fire flare in his chest for a moment before regaining control of himself. "I don't know anything about positive reinforcement, either," Zuko said. "but we have to try something."

"There are other styles of firebending besides the military standards. Styles that cover the defensive arts more thoroughly."

The annoyance vanished from the prince's tone. "Like what?"

"I did some research, before I left my father's house." He'd done a lot of research, actually, most of which had been necessary for him to finagle his way into the rebel forces. Being the bastard son of a minor noble had helped—he'd had access to scrolls that were not permitted in public libraries, and his baseborn status meant that no one considered him much of a threat. Zou knew more about the politics behind the war than most adults in the Fire Nation, and part of those politics included cultivating hatred and anger to fuel firebending on the battlefield.

It was easier to hurt people if you hated them.

"I once read a scroll about the ancient civilization of the Sun Warriors," he said, recalling an old text he'd picked up in his father's basement. "According to the records, they died out thousands of years ago, but there are still ruins where they used to exist."

"We might be able to learn something there," Zuko said, turning away and pacing. For just an instant, when the prince turned his back, Zou considered striking. It would only take one decisive blast, and the prince would be too incapacitated to fight back.

Not yet, he reminded himself. The Avatar has too much to learn, and I can't teach him all of it.

"Were there scrolls?" Zuko asked.

"I don't know. The text I read was an account from an old explorer. The Sun Warriors might not have had paper."

"Even if there isn't, there'll still be clues. Where can we find these ruins?"

Zou closed his eyes, trying to remember. "There was an ancient city. Some villages, too, but I don't think we'd have as much luck there. I don't know the name of the island, but if I had a map, I could point it out."

"Sokka will have a map. I'll talk to him when he gets back."

"I can talk to him." Sokka was one of the only people he really talked to in this group, since he'd been the first of the Avatar's party that he'd encountered. Zou didn't consider the water tribe warrior a friend—Zou didn't consider anyone a friend, especially knowing that all his old friends supported the war just like the rest of his nation—but Sokka was easy enough to talk to. Better him than the prince. Better him than the next Ozai.

"Okay."

The quick agreement caught him off-guard. He looked up to see Zuko looking thoughtful.

"When Sokka comes back, ask him for a map. I'll need you to give me a location so I can get there, and then—"

"Why don't I just come along?" He didn't trust the prince alone with the Avatar, not for a second. It's a miracle anyone lets Ozai's son near him in the first place.

"Okay . . . I guess you can come. Anyway, get me the location, and we'll leave at sunrise tomorrow."

"Fine." He turned away, just wanting to be finished with this conversation. It was nerve-wracking to stand so close to the prince, knowing he had to strike and still having to wait. After only a step, something wrapped around his wrist.

No, he thought, panic twisting through his gut. No, I'm sorry, I won't dishonor you again, I'm sorry. "Let go!" he squeaked.

The hand released him instantly. He whirled around, breathing hard, knees locked and arms pressed flat against his sides. Zuko was staring at him, moonlight glinting off his golden eyes so they looked like the eyes of a predator. A few feet behind Zuko, Aang watched with a concerned expression.

"Hey, Zou, are you all right?" the airbender asked.

He exhaled. Control yourself. There are some lessons that are better forgotten. "I'm fine." His voice was stiff, wooden. He forced himself to meet Zuko's eyes. "I'll talk to Sokka as soon as he gets back, and I'll be ready at sunrise."

Zuko's lips turned down at the corners. It wasn't quite a frown, but it conveyed the same sense of unhappiness. Zou lowered his eyes, retreating within himself even as a tiny part of him was revolted at the thought of bowing his head to the Fire Lord's son. If he considers me subservient, it'll be easier to get past his guard later, he told himself. I have to do this.

Zuko returned the bow, his expression still troubled. Zou waited a beat, then stepped back, retreating without ever losing sight of the prince. Eventually, Zuko turned to Aang and told him to keep working on his form.

Not yet, Zou thought. Soon, but not yet.