disclaimer. still not mine

author's notes. is it really april already? god time flies way too quickly when you're adulting. anyway, have an update because everything sucks these days. (i also made a sort of unofficial spotify playlist for this fic, it's up on my tumblr if anyone is so inclined).

thank you so much to everyone who's been following and leaving some very interesting feedback, especially with the last chapter. on that note, while i've tried to refrain from W.O.G-ing too much in these notes and allowing the story to speak for itself, i feel like it might be prudent to drop some gentle reminders, specifically: this is not just a love story. we're moving into the heart of some difficult and controversial truths regarding reconciliation and the balance of power that were first explored back in chapters 11-12 and now upended in recent chapters. while i expect to continue receiving polarizing reactions here, please remember while reading that the characters' opinions are certainly not absolute, no single character is above reproach, and we're just over halfway through the story. everyone still has a lot left to learn.

massive kudos as always to aangsslut for beta-reading and adding a finishing touch of awesome spice. she rules.

i give you...

southern lights

chapter xxxv. stranger than truth


so now it's time to make things right
we have been doing damage, enough for now
you see, it wasn't always like this
you blame the world, i think she's innocent

"a storm inside" / ghost brigade


It is still hours before dawn by the time the sound splits the air.

Gyatso rises from his spot atop the dais in the outdoor courtyard. Sleep had eluded him that night but his joints are stiff from the length of his cross legged meditation.

It is time, he thinks to himself grimly, slowly making his way up the summit to gaze down from the edge of the Temple.

The sky yawns overhead, an unending expanse of cool blue, the promise of dawn glowing faintly against the distant horizon. The water ripples beneath it, dark and silent like the dozens of strangely-shaped ships anchored just off the coastal shore.

"What is it?" asks High Monk Pasang, stepping in beside him to survey the below surroundings.

Gyatso shakes his head. "It is like nothing I've ever seen."

The ships bob against the waves, bigger and stranger than any vessel Gyatso has ever seen in his long life. Their prows are chiseled like sharp knives, built for great speed, but their decks are empty of any soldiers or weaponry. Instead, strange elongated round machines that he has never seen before are bolted to their decks.

"They dropped anchors some time ago," mutters Pasang, sounding worried despite himself. "Perhaps they are waiting for daylight before mounting an attack."

"Perhaps," Gyatso says doubtfully, his fingers tightening against the wooden staff of his glider. "But what advantage could the children of fire gain from darkness?"

In the cool blue glow of early winter sunrise, Pasang's jaw tightens. "It doesn't matter. Tashi and the others are assembling the rest of the nomads in this Temple. Let the firebenders try to take the mountain if they dare."

"What about the acolytes? Have they been hidden somewhere safe?"

Pasang shrugs. "Would you prefer that they had deserted us the way Aang did?"

Gyatso hangs his head. "I fear that very soon, we would all wish we had."

The strange sound that had roused him from meditation splits the air again, echoing against the slopes of the mountain and the flat open waters.

"What is that noise?" Pasang mutters, frowning down at the motionless ships below.

Then, one by one, flaming lanterns wink into existence. The clink of metal bolts unchaining and the humming roar of engines whirring to life.

Like flying spectres of death, the elongated machines rise slowly into the air, propelled upward by a mechanism that Gyatso doesn't quite understand.

He grabs at Pasang's shoulder blindly.

The High Monk doesn't look back at him, but Gyatso reads the uncertainty spreading across the right lines of his face. "Round up the acolytes," Pasang commands grimly, tapping his glider against the ground. "Make sure they are safe."

The wings of his glider snap open and he sails off to meet the loud, smoke-coloured machines floating upward like balloons of war.

Gyatso scrambles back, dread lending speed to his limbs as shrill whistles pierce the sky and the first missiles strike the mountainside in a fiery rain of destruction.


Zuko squints in the dim morning light. The mist coats the air surrounding them, making it nearly impossible to see ahead or behind. It swirls in faint patterns suspended in the air, making him feel like he's trapped in a timeless, shapeless void as the small fleet flees from the Southern Air Temple and hooks around Whale Tail Island, at the northern edge of the Southern Air Nomads' territory.

At first it was impossible to tell if they were being pursued by his sister's forces. Katara had planted herself high atop the crow's nest and drawn up a thick fog to hasten their escape, and she hadn't budged all night, isolated in a fit of wordless stubbornness. She'd spared barely a word for him, or Toph or Aang even, and her stubborn silence was grating on his last nerve even before he had breakfast with his uncle that very morning.

After that, it was impossible to pay attention to anything else as he scales the towering mast, deeper into the swirling mists blanketing their ships.

"Can we talk?" he hisses, pulling himself into the small basket that served as the ship's main lookout. Even up close, the clouds obscure the waterbender from his view as her movements slow and eventually halt altogether.

"Fine," Katara answers shortly. She pushes her hands down and the clouds of mist dissipate, revealing a clear blue sky radiant with cold winter sunlight, the coastline of Whale Tail Island only a short distance away. "Let's talk."

He surveys her up close, noticing the old lines reappearing around her mouth and eyes, haggard with exhaustion. The set of her shoulders, the quiet blaze of anger in her eyes, ready to flare in a trice if provoked. Towering high above the rest of their fleet, Zuko looks at her and is reminded of the cold, angry creature she'd been the day he met her.

"What's wrong?" he asks bluntly.

She cocks her head, frowning and the lines on her face deepen. "Nothing."

"Then why are you ignoring all of us?" He chances a step forward and nearly bumps into her shoulder. The wind rustles his hair and he pushes it back in frustration. "You've been hiding up here ever since we came on board yesterday, and you won't talk to any of us."

"I was busy," Katara mumbles, very carefully avoiding his gaze. "I promised General Iroh I'd give some cloud cover to help us escape without being noticed."

"How kind of you," Zuko heaves, feeling his own temper ignite at the mention of his uncle's name. "Was that before or after you told him you weren't joining us after you reached the North Pole?"

Katara stares at him so sharply he nearly recoils. Then she folds her arms across her chest defensively. "After," she answers with a defiant tilt of her chin.

Zuko nearly chokes in disbelief. "So you...you meant it?" he splutters, reaching out to grasp the railing next to him. "You blame him for what my dad did and now you want to leave? Just like that? You - you can't be serious!"

"I meant every word," Katara declares, her face darkening. "After everything your uncle did - or failed to do, why do I owe him anything anymore?"

The ship sways beneath him and Zuko's grip tightens on the railing. "This isn't like you. Where is this coming from? Why are you acting like this?"

Katara makes a disparaging sound. "I guess you don't know me as well as you think you do, then." She starts to turn away, but Zuko grabs her by the shoulder to stop her.

"Stop it. Stop trying to push me away. It won't work." He inches closer as she freezes and her shoulder beneath his palm goes rigid. "I'm on your side, Katara. And… and for the record, so is Uncle."

She shakes her head slowly. "I can't believe that anymore."

"Why not?" Zuko demands, fighting to keep his voice from rising. "Look, he's got enough on his plate as it is, and even after all that, he's still worried about you-"

"Worried? About me? How generous of him," Katara all but snarls. "What about everything else? Did he tell you why or is he still too ashamed?"

"Does it matter?" Zuko asks hoarsely. "I love you. I'd do anything for you."

"Except disagree with your uncle," Katara mutters mutinously.

It catches Zuko completely off guard. "What?"

"You heard me." Wiping at her face, Katara turns slowly to face him. "You'd do anything for me, except disagree with your family. You did it before with your dad, and you're doing it again with your uncle."

A small laugh escapes him even as her gaze turns frosty. "I don't believe it," he breathes. "Father was the bad guy and I already apologized for that… But what did Uncle do that you're taking everything out on him? Yes, he's been a bit slow to act recently...but he just lost his son, how can you of all people not understand what he's going through?"

She laughs harshly. "I understand better than anyone! After all, I was the first one here to suffer after he set Ozai loose on my people. Or did you forget that he was also complicit in the polar wars?" Her mouth twists sourly into a bitter smile. "He hasn't forgotten. So why would a man who does no wrong try to hide the truth about his actions?"

"He's still trying his best!" he explodes, before groaning and rubbing at his temples. "Look, the world is a disappointing place with disappointing people. We can't help what happened before, but we can only move forward. I want to help you, but I can't do that if you just leave! We have to stick together, it's our best chance-"

"I don't have to do anything!" Katara exclaims, her cheeks flushing dark red. "Why can't you understand that your uncle's best efforts still aren't good enough?"

"I know you're upset, but -"

"Upset?" Katara breathes, her eyes flashing dangerously. She marches up to him, her face inches from his. "Do you even have a clue about what Ozai did to my mother? Your uncle sent her away to save her life. How noble of him! Too bad that paled next to the olive branch he gave his brother." Her mouth twists into a terrible grimace. "Which was to turn a blind eye when Ozai started the polar wars as his sick revenge fantasy."

The clout of her words slam into him like a kick to the chest. He staggers backward, winded. "That...that can't be true -"

"And now he has the nerve to act like he saved us by choosing to act against him!" Katara barrels over him mercilessly, her voice so loud it makes his head hurt. "When it's his fault Ozai was involved in the first place, and he should have known better!"

Zuko's mouth opens and closes helplessly, utterly lost for words as her shoulders heave up and down with the intensity of her fury. "We all make mistakes when it comes to our families, Katara," he tries, as reasonably as he can as her breathing slows steadily. "Surely you can understand that? Remember when you abandoned us in the middle of the Sun Warriors battlefield for your brother?"

She recoils as though physically wounded. "How dare you compare the two," she spits, backing away from him. "As though some casualties on the battlefield could match what he did -"

"I'm sorry," Zuko apologizes quickly, sensing her wrath spiral out of hand once again and scrambling to find something, anything to placate her. "I didn't mean it that way. What he did wasn't okay. I see that now. But you can't just leave like this, without even giving him another chance!"

"After everything your family did to me, none of you have the right to ask me to do anything for you anymore!"

Zuko flounders wordlessly, her words hurting him more than he'd care to admit. "Katara, I can't help what my family did any more than you can, you're not being fair-"

"Neither are you!" Katara wraps her arms tightly around herself. "You may not have done anything personally, but you didn't lose everything as a result of what they did." Her voice breaks. "You're not the one who people look at and feel sorry for - you… you have no idea how humiliating that is!"

"I have no idea what that feels like?" Zuko repeats incredulously, letting go of the railing to jab at his chest. "I know better than anyone what being humiliated in front of absolutely everyone feels like -"

"Yes, and then with one announcement from your uncle, you're back to being the esteemed prince you always dreamed of being!" Katara cries. "Well, I don't have that luxury! I have to fight twice as hard for half as much, and whatever respect I do earn for myself, I have to stomach people telling me that I'm nothing, that I have nothing but charity!" She blinks back abrupt tears before whirling on him. "And now, when I finally decide this isn't working for me, that this has never worked for me, you're telling me just like everyone else that I don't have a choice?"

"I'm trying to help you!" Zuko all but yells in his frustration.

"How is continuing to do things the same way supposed to help?" Katara bites back, jamming her hands on her hips.

"But it's not the same!" Zuko argues, his head pounding from the effort of trying to make her see. "We're different people, we'll make it work -"

"I'm sure your uncle thought the same thing too," Katara barrels over him, her face twisting angrily. "But he'll never see me as an equal nor will anyone else. All they'll see when they look at us is just a prince offering charity to his poor, helpless victim."

Zuko gapes at her. "That's not what it is though!"

"Isn't it? Then why are you trying so hard to control me now? On making sure that I stay with you?"

Zuko exhales a burst of fire. "I'm not controlling you, I'm concerned-"

"Concerned about what? You don't think I'm strong enough to go it alone?"

Zuko closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, swearing that she was actually trying to goad him into a fight. "You know I don't think that."

"But everyone else does -"

"Since when has this been about what everyone else thinks?" Zuko interrupts her irately, hoping that his anger would be enough to make her back down.

Instead, she meets him head on. "It has always been about that! Don't pretend you're above it," she accuses. "Remember back at the palace, you wanted me to go away because you didn't want the courtiers thinking you weren't princely-"

"And you've done such a good job hiding everything between us that I don't know why you're so worried about anyone's opinion at all!" Zuko parries, stung by the accusation and the memory it accompanied.

Katara growls furiously. "If you can't understand why people would look at us and only see a prince amusing himself with some exotic woman his people conquered, then I don't know how to keep explaining to you why we needed to keep things hidden!"

For a moment, everything goes very quiet. The sound of the waves crashing against the island shoreline in the distance only seems to amplify the roar of blood building in Zuko's ears.

"That's...that's not what this is," Zuko whispers at last. He grabs at Katara's shoulders, resisting the urge to shake some sense into her. "You know that's not -" A terrible thought strikes him, blinding in its sickly clarity. "Is that what you really think?"

He wants her to back down, to admit she's gone too far this time, but instead she just stares at him stubbornly. "Isn't that why you first noticed me?" she asks bluntly, her teeth baring ferally. "Because of what everyone in your country says about Water Tribe women?"

He lets go of her, stumbling backward in his disbelief and his outrage, swelling so hot it nearly makes him sick.

"How dare you," he whispers at last when he finds the strength to speak again. "How dare you."

"Oh, so that's not it?" Katara's voice turns mocking. "What would you prefer to say then? Was it because I was exotic?"

Smoke trickled through with flame bursts from his nostrils. "Stop it, Katara."

"Or no, maybe it was just because I was different?"

Zuko squeezes his fists before sparks start flying out of his palms too. "No," he snaps finally, "no, in case you've forgotten, it's because you kept threatening me, and clearly I'm a glutton for punishment!"

Katara scoffs, her face twisting into a terrible smile. "Oh, in that case, I'm sorry I frightened His Royal Highness so badly -"

"No, you know what? Don't be!" Zuko fires back, too incensed to see straight. "Otherwise, what would people think if they saw us together?"

Katara scowls at him ferociously. "Well, it's a good thing they won't, so you don't have to worry about me ruining your precious princely reputation too!"

"I don't know why I bothered to say anything when you clearly think so poorly of me!" Zuko shouts, turning back to the ladder leading back down the mast. "Forget I said anything."

With a huff she turns back to face the tides and clouds of fog rush upward, masking everything in sight as he stumbles back down the mast in a blooming stupor of fury.

How could she think that about me? I'm on her side. Why is she being so -

He storms unseeing across the deck, patrolling naval officers nervously parting in his wake. The press of their curious stares follows him as he stomps all the way down the flights of stairs and bangs his fist against his uncle's cabin door.

He doesn't even wait for an answer within before shoving it open. The door crashes into the wall behind before bouncing back against his shoulder. A flash of pain shoots down his arm but he barely notices it.

"Prince Zuko?" Uncle Iroh glances at him from the low tea table in the corner of his room, where he had been engaged in deep discussion over tea with Admiral Liang and Commander Jee. His shrewd gaze sweeps over Zuko like a searchlight before he dismisses his senior officers and beckons his nephew to join him at the table. "What's wrong, nephew?"

Zuko struggles to contain his haphazard feelings threatening to brim out of him as his uncle gets to his feet and retrieves a clay cup along with the pot of tea resting by the fire. "Whatever it is that is troubling you, it is surely something a cup of calming jasmine tea cannot fix."

Zuko stares blankly at his uncle pouring tea carefully into the cup, at the sagging skin on his lined face and how behind the bright kindness of his features, sadness lurked in every crease. An ache wells from the depth of his chest, a blinding, profuse ache that makes his lower lip quiver and his throat clam up tightly.

"Uncle-" he croaks before his voice breaks off and he has to cough, annoyed with himself.

"Here." His uncle's smile is small and gentle as he slides the cup across the wooden table toward him. Like the way it always was, as far as Zuko could remember. Even when he was young and in his father's fickle favour, it was always Uncle Iroh he went to in his troubles. And later, growing up in exile of the royal palace, it was always Uncle Iroh who cared for him and made him feel at home. And now, when everything was falling apart and his own father had plotted his cousin's murder to seize the throne, it was Uncle Iroh who had named him his own heir in a public show of loyalty and courage no one else had ever matched.

Except Katara. Touch him again and I'll end you, she had promised his father, and unflinchingly made good on her threat.

But now she was turning her unbridled wrath against his uncle, and all he finds himself capable of doing is sip at his tea, flustered and distraught and feeling suddenly very young again.

"Good." His uncle nods, refreshing his own cup until it is full to the brim with steaming fragrant tea. "Now, what is troubling you?"

Zuko averts his gaze, focusing on the singed spots on the tabletop where tea spills and overheated pots had made their mark.

His uncle waits patiently as his silence draws out, at length getting to his feet to hang the teapot back in its spot along the fireplace.

"This morning," Zuko manages to find his voice at last, "you told me Katara had decided to leave us once we reached the Northern Water Tribe."

His uncle pauses, still facing the flames dancing in the fireplace, kindled to a low flicker. "That is what she told me, yes."

"But you didn't tell me why," Zuko ventures, watching his uncle's back stiffen. "She basically blamed you for the polar wars and what happened to her people!" A desperate laugh of disbelief escapes him. "That's crazy, isn't it?"

But his uncle continues watching the fire as it licks away at the charred logs below.

"I told her she should stay with us," Zuko continues, uncomfortable in his uncle's growing silence, "that we were her best chance to face the road ahead. But she shut me down. She said…" His voice breaks as he remembers her hurtful accusations when all he wanted was to help her. "She said she couldn't believe us anymore. Not after what you did."

His uncle stirs at that. "And what did you tell her?"

Zuko deflates, stricken by the way the conversation had grown ugly near the end. "That she shouldn't think so poorly of me."

"And this upsets you?" Uncle Iroh finally glances over his shoulder to meet his gaze, but there was no question in his tone. "I understand. I have disappointed my friends in my time also."

"I didn't disappoint her," Zuko grumbles vehemently, his cheeks stinging. "I just wish I knew what she wanted. I can't seem to do anything right these days."

His uncle smiles wearily. "Then it seems I have chosen my heir correctly."

And with a single announcement, you're back to being the respected prince you've always dreamed of being, Katara's voice whispers vehemently in his mind.

"I wish I could live up to the ideals you hold me to, my nephew," Uncle Iroh continues, clasping his hands behind his back. "But your friend is right to be angry with me."

Zuko gapes as his uncle slowly turns around with a sad smile on his face. "Don't let her get to you too! Uncle - I don't understand…"

"Perhaps you recall, as Sifu Katara most certainly did, that I had been tasked with negotiating terms under which the Water Tribes could be brought into the Empire, many years ago? And that I had foolishly turned this over to Ozai, who had but to put his name to paper and bring the treaty into being?"

Zuko nods curtly, not thinking he could ever forget how he had nearly been betrothed to Katara in that treaty. "But he ruined it," he supplies, his face falling. No matter what, my father always finds a way to ruin everything. "Not you. Once he started, you tried to fix things. You were always championing the cause of the downtrodden in our empire, you…"

His uncle shakes his head slowly. "He ruined it, because I allowed him to," he explains mournfully. "Ozai had long harboured dangerous ideas about the Water Tribe. Katara's mother, Kya, she -"

"She grew up in the capital," Zuko suddenly remembers, from a conversation that feels like a lifetime ago, the way everything had changed so quickly afterward. "Katara - she said my father told her that they were best friends."

"On his part, he may have thought so," Uncle Iroh answers heavily. "I do not imagine there is anyone who Ozai sought to possess more than Kya in their youth."

"He loved her?" Zuko chokes, suddenly queasy at the thought. You are more like me than you will ever know, his father had said to him once when he felt powerless to refuse him. Was he right, in the end? Was his father's shadow truly inescapable?

His uncle shakes his head. "Love is not possession, my nephew. It is not lust or control or obsession, but something far more powerful. Something your father sadly has never understood in his life." His face tightens. "I was several years their senior and did not know Kya well. However, whispers from the palace staff reached me of - of incidents, which I will not describe to you." His lip curls in distaste and his voice grows sharp as a whip. "Suffice it to say, I felt it was no longer appropriate for him to pursue this... friendship, as he called it. I'm sure Kya would have called it something very different. With my influence, I was able to craft a position for her father half a world away, back in his home, and in doing so, send her with her family to a place of security, where she could live her life in peace. But I did not expect to hurt my brother in doing so."

Zuko opens and closes his mouth ineffectually, trying and utterly failing to picture his father as anything other than the monster he'd become.

"You are surprised. I was too," Uncle Iroh admits. "I was never taught to regret a decision, but it was as though the will went out of him after she left. For a time, he lost his drive, his very spirit. I am not sure what ambitions fueled him and where Kya fit into them, but the loss of them hit him hard. And I had all but sent her away, never to return." His gaze drops down to his feet in shame and his voice softens. "I do not think he ever forgave me after that. This grieved me greatly, for I loved my younger brother, and worried about him constantly."

"Worried about him?" Zuko asks scathingly, raising an eyebrow. "When there were so many other innocents on the line?"

"Ozai was my younger brother, Zuko. He is still my younger brother." Uncle Iroh sighs, suddenly sounding very tired. "Even now, after all he has done, I still remember the young boy he was, full of life and passion..." He closes his eyes and the lines around them grow deeper. "I was the elder, always favoured by our father. Ozai, whose birth robbed us of our mother and my father his beloved wife, was always quick to earn his displeasure: too slow to learn, too blunderous to trust." His voice grows hoarse, nearly resembling a different man. "How often Father would tell us that I was born lucky, and that he was lucky to be born."

Zuko's breath freezes in his lungs. Whatever he had expected to hear, this was not it. He never imagined, after everything that had been said and done, that it would be possible for him to feel sorry for his father. And yet…

"But that's not an excuse," he breathes, and his words come out more accusatory than he intends. "If growing up like that is enough to excuse the choices he made in life, then…" Then what does that say about me? "He still chose to become a monster," he finishes, now annoyed by his uncle's sympathy. "You didn't make him do that."

"No, I did not," his uncle allows. "But I was the fool who allowed him to take over negotiations with the Water Tribe. With Kya's husband, no less. I wanted so badly for him to have closure, to forgive me for hurting him, that I placed Kya's family and her entire people straight in his path without a second thought."

No. Zuko stares at his uncle in growing horror, feeling like ice is crawling through his veins and freezing him from the inside out.

"And when he presented one sanitized report after another at our councils, I wanted so badly to believe him," his uncle continues haltingly. "Even when the signs were right there, for me to probe more deeply, to stop him, I didn't. Not until it was too late for too many." His voice shudders and he raises a hand to wipe at his eyes quickly. "I was selfish and comfortable, and I was too slow to act. When it is all said and done, your friend is justified in her disappointment with me, though it is a harsh truth to bear."

Zuko struggles to speak, because even breathing suddenly is too difficult. Guilt floods alarmingly through him as Katara's voice rings accusingly in his ears in a pounding, terrible cadence. Too bad that paled next to the olive branch he gave his brother, which was to turn a blind eye when Ozai started the polar wars as his sick revenge fantasy...

His uncle sits down heavily in the chair across from him as Zuko watches him with wildly changing eyes. "But I do not understand where to go from here," he confesses. "Though I cannot change the past, I am trying my best. How can I still be judged by the same meter as my brother?"

"Your best isn't enough," Zuko mumbles, his ears burning with shame.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's not enough," Zuko repeats, placing his palms on the tabletop. "So you're better than my father, but apart from that, what else can you offer her?"

"Whatever she wants!" Uncle Iroh insists desperately. "But she wants to be rid of us and go back among her people -"

You may not have done anything personally, but you didn't lose everything as a result of what they did...

"She wants to be free," Zuko bursts out with a sudden flash of understanding. "She wants to find her own destiny, on her own terms, without having to ask for your permission." And with a sudden pang in his chest, "She wants to be equal to us, to not be looked down upon because she's from the South Pole and not the Fire Nation homeland. Can you give her that?"

Iroh blinks several times, looking as though Zuko had suggested something extremely ludicrous. "What you are suggesting is beyond my power to give," he says delicately, though his fingers shake as they close around his teacup. "First, we must find a way to defeat Ozai and take control of the Empire back from him."

"And then what?" Zuko challenges, suddenly feeling indignant on Katara's behalf. "Everything goes back to the way it was? With Fire Nation citizens thinking they're better than people from the colonies and growing fat off the riches we take from them? Why would any of them risk their lives for that kind of future?"

"Because the alternative is too terrible to imagine!"

"But there has to be more!" Zuko insists. "If you want the colonies to fight for you, then you need to give them a reason why." He breathes heavily through his nostrils and smoke curls in the air. "A really good reason."

"Prince Zuko," his uncle admonishes him gently, "what you are suggesting would destroy the Empire."

Zuko snorts. "That would destroy the Empire? Not my father murdering innocents or expelling the Earth continent diplomats or even dissolving the Imperial Court? Just the suggestion that maybe we shouldn't look down upon and exploit the people whose help we need most right now?"

His uncle falls into a worried silence.

"I see," Zuko heaves, and trembles course through his body as he pushes to his feet. "I know you believe in the Empire, Uncle. You've spent your whole life fighting to protect it. But even if we win against my father - and that's a big if - retaking your throne won't be enough to fix it."

His uncle mumbles something under his breath before shaking his head. "The Empire was founded on pure intentions. It is lesser men like your father who have corrupted it for their own gains -"

"Equality among all four nations was never Sozin's intent and you know it!"

Zuko's voice slices through his uncle's earnest words, ringing in the sudden silence that follows. Guilt hits him like a sucker punch to the gut at the hapless expression spreading like a wound across his uncle's face, but his breath stays harsh in his throat and his face flushes impossibly hot with the roar of blood in his ears.

An urgent tap on the door outside shatters the spell. "General Iroh!" Captain Shu's soft voice filters through the door, sharp and frantic. "We have a troop of Air Nomads incoming!"

The abrupt confusion that shows undisguised on his uncle's face mirrors Zuko's own as he gets to his feet shakily, tearing his gaze away nervously. "Air Nomads?" he repeats incredulously. "We're well clear of their borders by now-"

Shaking his head, he barges out the door and a surprised Captain Shu falls in step with him. "How far to Whale Tail Island? Drop the anchors, make for land…"

Zuko lingers behind, still shaking uncontrollably. His face prickles uncomfortably hot and with a groan, he pushes a hand through his hair, accidentally dislodging the little crown perched on his topknot.

Frustrated, he yanks it out and marches upstairs, the sharp metal crown digging into his palm and heating with the fire that pulses under his skin.

By the time he surfaces above deck, a crush of people have huddled against the port side railing. Not too far in the distance, the shores of Whale Tail Island are visible through the shifting fog, now dropped to a fine mist. He squints, wondering if he's imagining the scores of six-legged bison resting on the beach, and the saffron-robed figures that accompany them.

Then a voice catches his attention and he jolts upright. The crowd builds around an Air Nomad in singed robes, but it isn't Aang. It's his old master, Gyatso.

This can't be good.

His heart sinking in its chest, he hurries to the edge of the crowd and everyone, too transfixed by Gyatso's words, barely notice him as he sidles past.

Gyatso leans heavily against the deck behind him, his voice a breathless wheeze. Across from him, his uncle and the senior officers listen grimly. He falters, not particularly wanting to confront his uncle at the moment. A small distance back, Aang waits with a white-knuckled grip on his glider and his face blanched of all colour. Katara stands next to him, her face clouded with the same storm from earlier, her arms crossed and formidable.

He fights the twin instinct to approach and retreat, and instead chooses to join Toph's side, deep enough within the crowd to be safe.

"What's going on?" he mutters in her ear, hurriedly replacing the crown in his hair.

To his surprise, she shushes him and lowers her head, her sightless eyes narrowing.

Gyatso's voice is haltingly soft but the crowd is so silent it rings clearly across the deck. "...there was little warning. They used terrible great flying machines, ones that we had never seen before. If we had known what they were capable of, perhaps the High Monk would have thought to bolster the Temple's defenses more greatly."

"What happened to the High Monk?" he hisses.

Toph shakes her head and he instinctively glances at Aang. The young monk shakes his head, his shoulders shaking as though fighting tears.

"But by the time we had escaped with the better part of our acolytes, it was too late. I tried to turn around, I and a handful of our masters, we tried to fly back to help the others but..." Gyatso's shaking voice trails off and he hunches over, clutching at his glider like a lifeline.

Shock pummels Zuko like the waves crashing against the hull of the boat, threatening to knock him off-kilter. He clutches a hand against his chest, barely able to see straight. They attacked the Air Temple. Because we were there. Because we asked for their help.

"I am so sorry, my old friend," Uncle Iroh says softly. "Is there any way we can assist?"

Gyatso shakes his head. "They took no prisoners. They leveled the Temple, blasted it clear off the summit! Then they turned around and flew back in the direction of the Capital." He gestures toward the island shore helplessly. "We are all that is left of the Southern Air Temple."

A buzz of shocked whispering erupts around Zuko, who only catches snatches of them in the surreal haze that seems to envelop him.

"...didn't know Ozai had air balloons…"

"...if they could do that to the Air Nomads, what would they have in store for us?"

"...lucky we got away…"

"...should have joined us when they had the chance…"

Then his uncle places his hand on Gyatso's arm and squares his shoulders to face the crowd. Conflicting pain and fear war in Zuko's chest at the expression clouding his uncle's face, not the helpless old man he'd shouted at earlier, but instead one determined and full of anger.

"We have heard enough," he announces in a booming voice that seems to resonate across the entire bay. "Master Gyatso, I admit I feel some responsibility for this heinous crime. By arriving at your shores and begging for your help and shelter, I drew you into the crosshairs of Ozai's gaze."

Zuko furrows his brow as his uncle fidgets uncomfortably. "It is probable that a similar reception awaits anyone who dares to offer us reprieve from the pursuit of my brother's forces. Such is their hate, that it has spread into madness and bloodshed. Where will it end?"

His uncle's gaze sweeps across the gathered crowd like a beacon until it lands squarely on him. Zuko blinks and looks away, for his uncle's eyes burned bright with some newfound fire that hadn't been there before.

"Will it end with our heads on spikes carried back to the capital in triumphant parades? Will it end when the whole world has burned to the ground and only ashes remain for those who followed him blindly?" His uncle's face hardens, every line in his weathered skin seeming alive as though buzzing with electricity. "Or will there still be some depravity left still? For a man who would kill innocent children, bystanders, even his own kin for power, can there truly be an end?"

For an instant, he chances a glance at Katara, who folds her arms and stares squarely back at him in defiance. Then he clears his throat and continues, his voice loud and clear for all to hear.

"Once, our empire had a purpose, and meant some good in this world. Now it has fallen to blood and chaos." Iroh lowers his head, shamefaced, and Zuko fights the audible gasp that threatens to escape his throat. "And we who saw the warning signs and looked the other way and allowed the price to be paid in innocent blood, we are all to blame for this."

Zuko's mouth runs dry in shock as his uncle raises his gaze to meet his. No apology or hesitation rested in his eyes, only a grim determination to set things right. "I have been so fixated on the crown that I lost sight of what was most important to protect. That what binds us all is not some feeble allegiance bought by fire and destruction." Then Uncle Iroh closes his eyes and exhales deeply and his voice softens. "I must not let anyone else pay for my failures."

The buzz of whispers erupting around Zuko melds with the ebb and flow of the shore bound tide, making the world sway around him. His face burns and the urge to apologize springs strangely to his lips, even though, even though I did nothing wrong, I was right and he knew it too.

And even in spite of that, a bitter taste still lingers in his mouth. Because how many times had Uncle tried to make amends and failed? How many times before had he been content to let others take the fall for his mistakes?

What makes now any different?

Out of the corner of his eye, he steals a glimpse at Katara and sees thoughts of a similar nature blazing like fire in the harsh lines etched into her impassive face.

"If it is our duty to make my brother answer for his crimes, then we will do it or fall trying," his uncle declares with an intensity that makes Zuko's hairs stand on end. "It will be dangerous. It will be the most difficult thing any of us will ever do. But from this moment forth, every action we take will bring closer the day of Ozai's reckoning."

The hissing murmurs wane to a hush, as though a blanket of silence has muffled everyone's ability to speak. Then Gyatso steps forward and taps his glider against the deck decisively. "And we will stand with you," he declares, his reedy voice gaining power as he straightens his wizened form and lays a hand on Iroh's shoulder. "We remained neutral to these conflicts at our cost. No more. It is time for the Air Nation to unite and join General Iroh in making a stand against the tyrant who has usurped his throne, for he threatens us all." He turns to Iroh and bows his head respectfully. "We must choose a new Council of Elders to lead us. Whatever of us remain from the Southern Temple, whoever of us join our call from the other Temples, we pledge to stand with you, wherever you may go."

Iroh raises a shaking hand to dab at the corner of his eyes. To Zuko's surprise, he bows deeply to the frail old monk, clamping a fist across his chest plate. "I am humbled by your pledge," he says. "Thank you for coming to our aid when we did little to prevent your losses."

Gyatso's mouth curves into a sad smile before he turns to Aang and beckons him with a nod of the head. "Come ashore with us, Aang. In the wake of Pasang's loss, we must choose the new High Monk."

Aang wipes at his cheeks with the back of a tattooed hand before snapping his glider open. "I'm ready."

Katara touches his elbow gently and something in Zuko's chest leaps with longing at the sight of it. "Are you sure it's a good idea to go alone, Aang?"

But the young Air Nomad only nods jerkily as he pulls away. "I have to do this," he insists, tight-lipped. "If I had spoken more clearly, maybe Pasang and Tashi would have listened, maybe they'd still be…"

"It's not your fault," Katara cuts him off, not unkindly. "You tried your best. But they didn't budge." To Zuko's surprise, and seemingly Aang's too, she hugs him quickly. "I'm proud of you."

Aang gives her a watery smile before walking over to Gyatso's side. With a snap of their gliders and without a further word, both sail off toward the island shore where the remainder of the Southern Air Temple wait.

"Oh no," Toph mumbles as though to herself, struck by a sudden thought. Her face turns a sickly shade of green. "Does this mean we're flying to the North Pole now?"


"Are you sure this is the right place?" Suki hisses out of the corner of her mouth. "So far this has been a complete waste of time!"

Ty Lee whistles. "Woke up on the wrong side of the sleeping bag, Suki? Cheer up, be patient!" She props her chin against her fist, fingers tapping away at the small tabletop around which the four of them are crammed. "This is exciting!"

"Yeah!" Haru pipes up, in a whisper loud enough to carry throughout the crowded old teashop. "Just like that time we tried to stake out for the rebellion and nearly got caught by the Dai Li! Remember that, Wang?"

"No. Because it never happened," Lee retorts without sparing him a glance. "And stop calling me Wang, that's not my name."

"Sure thing, Wang."

Suki plies him with an electric glare. "We've been waiting here for three days, and all we have to show for it is a handful of senile old men harbouring a serious tea addiction!"

Lee's eyes tear away from the aproned waiters bearing chipped teapots from table to table, and flick toward her briefly and something sharp bolts through her stomach. Even in the dim glow of the paper lanterns strung along the ceiling, his blue eyes shine brightly. "We're in the right place. Trust me."

Suki finds herself momentarily speechless as his knee bumps into hers. She jerks away instinctively, her voice taking on the cadence of the teapots boiling over in the back room. "Well...fine! But if you dragged me away from home on nothing more than a fool's errand, there'll be hell to pay!"

Instead of cowering, the corner of his mouth quirks upward. "I'll bet." He leans forward suddenly, his face scrunching up with concentration. "Hang on. That might be our guy."

Suki squints in the direction Lee directs their attention and her eyebrows shoot to the level of her hairline. "That old man? Sitting all by himself?" she scoffs. "He looks like he'd like to wipe the floor with someone in a game of pai sho, maybe." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Not take down the Dai Li from the inside."

Lee's smirk widens. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that pai sho isn't just a game, Suki?"

Steam nearly rushes out her ears as she slams her hands against the table. "Why would anyone ever tell me that?"

But he doesn't answer her, silently getting to his feet instead. Before she can get another word in edgewise, he has already slipped to the other side of the tearoom, approaching the solitary old man at the small round table with his steaming chipped teacup.

"What in Kyoshi's name is going on here?" Suki splutters as the old man gestures to the empty seat across from him and Lee obligingly takes it. "I thought we were trying to do something important! Not waste our time watching Lee drink tea and play pai sho."

"I don't know," Haru remarks, stroking his chin as a pile of gleaming pai sho chips appear at the old man's elbow. "This is bringing back memories." He leans over, whispering in Suki's ear. "The Dai Li clamp down on dissent everywhere they find it. To survive, the resistance had to find a way to thrive in plain sight. Docile, harmless, waiting for the correct moment to strike." He laughs softly under his breath as Lee takes a tile and places it confidently on the playing board set out on the table. "And what's more harmless than a bunch of senile old people nursing a tea addiction and obsessing over the cryptic arts?"

Suki pauses, watching as the old man returns the move and Lee takes up another. The clicking of tiles being set down onto the board in rapid succession seems to rattle in her ears. This is the fastest game of pai sho I've ever seen.

Curious, she gets to her feet and walks over to the back of the room, where Lee and the old stranger are still intent on their lightning round of pai sho. "It looks like we have a couple of grandmasters here," she drawls, crossing her arms as she peers over Lee's shoulder.

To her surprise, both players pause and look up at her. On the board, a flower-shaped pattern seems to watch her intently.

"One of yours?" the old man queries, his mouth curving into a gentle smile.

"Yeah," Lee replies breezily, pulling a curving piece of metal out of his pocket and spinning it between his fingers. "Her and the pretty one in pink." He pauses before shrugging indifferently. "And that guy in green sitting next to her. I think he's got amnesia or something, but he was a sleeper and he's also an earthbender, he could be useful."

"Hm." The old man places a tile in the center of the board, seeming to end the game because Lee just snatches up his boomerang and pockets it again, lounging back in his seat. "Are you sure they can be discreet?"

Suki opens her mouth to argue but Lee nods at her. "Sure I'm sure. This one's a Kyoshi Warrior."

"Really?" The old man stares at her with flabbergasted eyes. "That was quite the recruitment, Lee."

"He didn't recruit me for anything!" Suki snaps, glaring at Lee who doesn't even flinch. "My home was in danger and I wanted to help. Now, if it isn't too much trouble, could you please stop playing games and do something already?"

"This one is impatient," the old man remarks, casting a sidelong glance at Lee as he tucks his hands into his sleeves.

"Yeah, I'm working on her," Lee retorts, picking at the underside of his ragged nails. "But she's got a point. They're moving quickly. We don't exactly have all day."

The old man nods before casting a cautious glance around the small teashop. "The two of you, then. The others will arouse suspicion if they join us now."

"What?" Suki hisses as the old man bends down to retrieve something from the lumpy leather satchel lying by his feet, and then presses it into her hands. She stares at the empty clay flowerpot quizzically as the old man withdraws another and slides it around the gameboard to Lee.

"The flower arranging takes place downstairs," the old man says, gesturing at the back door.

Lee nods, palming his flowerpot as he sweeps to his feet. "Thanks. C'mon Suki, let's go learn how to arrange flowers."

"What?" Suki sputters, cheeks blooming furiously as he hooks his free arm around hers and all but drags her through the back door. "Flower arranging? What in the world -?"

She glimpses a narrow landing with a dusty door leading to the dank alleyway behind the teashop, and a rickety set of old steps descending into darkness. Momentarily staggered in her confusion, she lets Lee drag her down the stairway, daylight and the sounds of the teashop fading into the shadows.

Then she hears Lee knocking on the door with the butt of his flowerpot and the answering slide of metal against wood. "Who knocks at the gate?" a dry voice asks in the darkness.

Lee's arm seems to burn against her own as he answers brightly. "It's Lee and a friend! We're here for the flower arranging."

Suki dimly perceives him waving his clay teapot at the small grille in the door before it slides shut and the door before them swings open.

The dim flicker of torchlight assaults Suki's eyes as a burly man motions them inside and furtively shuts the door behind them.

"What…"

Suki's eyes rove all around her, taking in the small basement cellar scantily lit by four torches set in sconces on the peeling walls. Dirt scatters against her feet as she stops in her tracks. An assortment of wooden chairs are set in a large circle taking up most of the shabby single room, mostly occupied by people she's never seen before. Their whispered conversations ripple like the water slowly dripping from the ceiling.

As Lee lets go of her and takes a seat and she slides into an empty chair next to him, she notices everyone present is clutching a similar flowerpot.

I think someone must have slipped something in my tea, she decides, shivering in the cold draftiness of the cellar. After the secretive danger of ambushing the Dai Li just before the Sun Warriors battle, she can't help but feel ridiculous in the outlandishness of her current setting.

"Where are we?" she hisses, rubbing at her cold arms.

The quiet murmurs dull to a ringing hush as Lee whispers into her ear, "You wanted to find the resistance. Well, here it is."

Suki raises her eyebrows at the ragtag assortment of people seated around them, barely more than silhouettes in the faint light, and can't help the skepticism that enters her voice. "That's it?"

"Well," Lee trails off thoughtfully. "Not exactly."

"The Dai Li is a well-oiled machine," another voice answers and Suki nearly jumps out of her seat. She turns to the speaker, a man with long white hair who takes the seat next to hers. "To combat them, we must be just as organized. What you see here is just one cog."

Up close, Suki sees that he is old and balding, and even in the dim glow of torchlight, his skin looks like it could be the same deep hue as Katara's. Or Lee's.

Lee cocks his head in the old man's direction, and golden torchlight flickers off his teeth as his face splits into a delighted grin. "Is that you, Grampakku?"

Suki fights a cough as the old man stiffens in displeasure. "Just Pakku will suffice," he says crisply, sweeping long beaded braids over his shoulder. "As I have told you multiple times by now…"

"Pakku?" Suki echoes, trying to place the unfamiliar name. "Are you also from the Water Tribes?"

Instead of answering, the old man frowns at her. "Also?" he echoes.

Suki shrugs, her face burning as Lee snorts next to her. "One of my friends is Water Tribe too."

"Oh, is she?" the old man Pakku sniffs disbelievingly.

"Face it, Suki," Lee mutters under his breath. "You'd have better luck hugging a cactus than befriending that sour old sea prune."

"You speak from experience, I presume," Pakku answers dryly and even in the dark, Suki can see him rolling his eyes. "Seeing as you are the only person I've ever met with the wit to actually hug a cactus."

"Hey!" Lee protests, jamming the flowerpot in his lap to point accusingly at Pakku. "That was one time! Besides, that mission to the Si Wong desert was a huge success, or are you forgetting what we learned about our firebending friends in that old library -"

"We will focus on the task at hand," Pakku cuts him off icily, getting to his feet with a smoothness that belied his years and turning to address the rest of the room. His voice grows louder. "We seem to have even less time than we thought. The Dai Li are moving swiftly to press their advantage. Within the past week, we have heard of multiple reports of them openly invading villages and towns under the pretense of launching a military strike against the Fire Empire."

"It's true," a man says, hidden in the shadows. "They came to my home three days ago, goons and thugs all of them! Only by rounding up every able-bodied person and taking the better part of our treasury's gold were they content to leave!"

"They did the same thing to us!" Suki exclaims, craning to face the shadowed man. "Or at least, they tried. We were able to fight them back." Her face falls in hopeless desperation. "For a time."

Pakku nods curtly. "They have grown bold. They have also claimed responsibility for the assassination of the Crown Prince on his wedding night. How they could manage to do that when they have been so busy licking their wounds from their defeat at the Sun Warriors island is beyond me, but that is their story."

"It's part of their operation to make them seem more powerful and numerous than they actually are," Lee speaks up confidently, sprawled in his seat with an arm carelessly flung against the back of Suki's seat. Her cheeks burn. "By now, I'm pretty sure we've mapped their entire operation right down to the number of sleepers in each cell."

Pakku sighs before sitting back down. "If you're so sure, I'm certain you won't mind sharing with the rest of us what exactly you've mapped about their operation."

Lee grins and leaps to his feet; Suki shivers, the chill damp of the room seeming to seep into her bones. "Well, as we know, most of the Dai Li we encounter in our daily lives are the sleepers. Civilians, mostly dissenters or criminals who fall into Dai Li control and then are somehow brainwashed into following their orders. Their job is to terrorize and spy on ordinary folks like you and me." He laughs, waving his flowerpot disarmingly. "Well...I wouldn't call you or I ordinary-"

"Get on with it," Pakku interjects wearily.

"Righto, Grampakku!" Lee grins again, tossing the flowerpot from one hand to another. "Well, for a while, the whole concept of sleepers confused us. I mean, sure they're creepy and everywhere, but who was responsible for brainwashing them? And how did they do it? And why? And -"

"I'm assuming you have an answer to all these questions, Lee," Pakku quips sourly.

"Sounds like Grampakku's not interested in hearing all my stories," Lee says in a loud stage whisper. "Never mind! To cut a long story short...it was basically what we thought. The Dai Li organize themselves like a giant pyramid. The sleepers are the bottom, they're the most numerous and they also know next to nothing about the operation. It's safer that way. Then the next tier up are the agents." He pauses for dramatic effect. "At first we thought they were all brainwashed too. But turns out, it was actually a lot more complicated! There seems to be a hierarchy at work there too, with more senior agents knowing more the higher up you go. And we all know who's at the top of the chain."

The air in the room seems to turn even chillier.

"Long Feng," Pakku spits out the word as though it was a bitter taste in his mouth. "The most elusive of all of them. We've been trying to take him out for years. But the man is slippery, as though made of smoke and shadow."

"He's everywhere if you look hard enough," Lee supplies before his face falls. "But yeah, it took me forever to pin his movements. Even when I go under, he won't speak with me directly. But make no mistake, all the orders start with him. He's the real brain behind the whole thing."

"So how do we find him?" Suki blurts out impatiently, tapping her feet against the hard-packed dirt floor. "Sounds like if we take him out, the Dai Li get cut off at the head."

Lee clicks his tongue in dissent. "Actually, that's not exactly true," he says gingerly. "Even if we took out Long Feng, the agents at the top are well disciplined enough to continue what he started. We'd be back where we started in a week."

"And they're getting better at it too," complains the man sitting in the shadows. "A few years ago, you could tell a sleeper a mile away. They were basically zombies, all you had to do was use their code phrase to snap them out of their trance. But now? They seem basically normal! One could be sitting in this very room with us right now, carrying on as though nothing was amiss, and then the moment the Dai Li need them to, they switch back like a light!" She gulps with fear. "And forget about the code phrase! The sleepers today would laugh in your face if you tried to use one on them!"

A chorus of murmured agreements swells around the circle. Dread prickles its way down Suki's spine in goosebumps.

"We noticed that too," Lee laments. "Which was part of the big challenge in taking them down. Before you take out the guy at the top, you have to dismantle the network holding him up. But the code words don't work like they used to. Which means that their methods have changed. We have to get to the bottom of it, find out where and how they were doing it...and then undo it."

A stunned silence descends upon the group in the wake of Lee's words. Suki finds herself barely able to speak, her ears ringing with the steady drip drip drip of water leaking from the ceiling.

Then the door opens suddenly and everyone nearly jumps out of their seats in alarm at the sudden sound. The crunch of bootsteps against the dirt floor draws closer.

"Sorry I'm late," drawls a woman's voice that Suki finds very familiar. A shadow slips into an empty chair on the far side of the circle. "What did I miss?"

Lee's grin widens but before he can open his mouth, Pakku speaks up. "Lee was regaling us with a few of his tales."

"My condolences," snorts the woman and the familiarity of her voices itches at Suki's nerves.

"Hey, can we focus here?" Lee asks, a hint of petulance sliding into his voice. "We're only planning a top-secret mission to take down the most dangerous and well-organized syndicate on the continent here!"

Much to Suki's consternation, he throws a grin her direction before growing immediately solemn. "On my last undercover mission, I discovered where the brainwashing was taking place. Before, they would round up civilians at every regional outpost and take care of them then and there. Now, they're sending them to some hideout under the lake in Ba Sing Se to be brainwashed by some kind of bending trick. It's called Lake Laogai and you need to be an earthbender to get in or out."

"Well, it's a good thing we have an earthbender readily available here to assist you on this proposed mission," Pakku says dryly. "Oh, wait a second. Actually, we don't."

"That's okay! We found one of our own!" Lee replies brightly. "Coincidentally, he was the sleeper that the Dai Li tasked to take over Suki's village, except luckily the code phrase worked on him so he's back on our side now!"

"The code phrase worked on him, huh?" the woman with the familiar voice rasps. "They must have put him under a while ago then."

"That's what his story seems to suggest," Lee agrees. "Either way, it doesn't matter! Right now, we know the Dai Li are on the move. We have an earthbender with a vendetta, a Kyoshi Warrior, a girl who claims she can block chi, and my intelligence of the inside of Lake Laogai! We have basically everything we need to sneak in there, spy on their brainwashing operation to get enough information about how to neutralize the new sleepers, and get out safely!"

Suki's breath hitches, the damp air sticking like a knife in her throat. "Wait a second," she says hoarsely, frowning up at Lee. "What about you?"

Lee blinks at her in confusion. "What about me?"

Suki shakes her head, her confusion snatching at her senses aggravatingly. "You just said that you go under to spy on them. Does that mean they've tried to brainwash you? And if so...how do you snap out of it?"

Lee's mouth drops open as he gapes at her, truly caught off guard. Then he shakes his head and his usual infuriating smile slides back onto his face. "Trade secret?" he offers with a nonchalant shrug.

Suki scoffs, but Pakku cuts her off before she can probe any further. "This is your brilliant plan?" he asks witheringly. "Sneak in and spy on them? Sounds like an unnecessary risk, especially if it hinges on your...intelligence."

"It's our best shot," Lee argues. "We're running out of time and options. We need a way to disable the sleepers if we have a hope of stopping the Dai Li before they completely consolidate their hold on the continent!" He gestures emphatically with the flowerpot in his hands. "I'm convinced that right now, Lake Laogai will be as unguarded as it'll ever be."

"But not empty," Pakku warns. "And if you're caught, you don't need me to remind you how dangerous they are."

"I'm taking someone who can block chi," Lee answers, sounding somewhat as though he was talking to a slow-witted child. "It doesn't matter how many earthbenders are there if they can't bend."

For the second time that meeting, complete silence blankets the entire group. Suki isn't sure whether it's nerves, anticipation, or something else entirely that grips her chest in an iron grip and makes it hard to breathe.

"This idea is absolute lunacy," Pakku says flatly. "Like so many of yours. And yet...we are growing desperate for a strategy. The time to fight back is slowly slipping away from us with every day that passes and the Dai Li grow bolder."

"Are you saying that we can go along with it?" Lee asks excitedly.

"I'm saying we don't have much of a choice," Pakku admits grudgingly. He spares a glance at Suki, his pale eyes glinting in the dim torchlit glow. "You at least seem to have a sensible head on your shoulders."

Suki is so startled by the sour old man's unexpected compliment that she momentarily forgets how to speak.

Pakku gets to his feet, surveying the assembled group grimly. "You all have heard the plan. With luck - a lot of luck - these four will succeed in infiltrating the sleeper operation in Lake Laogai and bring back some more intelligence on how to undo the brainwashing for good." A note of uncertainty filters into his voice.

"Hey, as far as Lee's plans go, this one isn't actually that bad," the woman with the familiar rasp speaks up. Suki furrows her brow, distracted. Where have I heard that voice before? "Everyone else will just have to believe in him and hang tight. Do what they can to keep the Dai Li at large and away from their central base of operations."

Murmurs of dubious assent ripple throughout the circle.

"We can do that!"

"Keep them distracted, resist as best we can…"

"Exactly." Pakku reaches down behind his seat and pulls up a giant basket. He circles around the group, handing everyone something from its depths. Suki's hand closes around her offering and she examines it curiously.

"What are the flowers for?" she asks blankly, staring at the white lotus in her hand.

Pakku's lip curls. "Well, as far as anyone knows, this is a flower arranging class, isn't it? You can't leave without an arrangement."

Oh. "Right." Suki laughs nervously, watching as Lee winds his blossom into the dirt of his flowerpot and, feeling very foolish, does the same with hers.

"You have until the dark of next moon to make contact again," Pakku instructs. "We will all lie low until then. When you resurface, get in touch with Piandao. He will alert the Mad King himself."

Suki gasps. "The Mad King?" Surely he doesn't mean -

"What about you?" Lee asks, a touch impudently. "Where are you going?"

"Home," Pakku replies tonelessly. "With all that's going on...I suspect I'll be needed there sooner or later." He sighs. "It's a long way north."

"More secret old people business?" Lee guesses.

"No. More like secret saving-my-home-from-inevitable-oblivion business," Pakku replies grumpily. He plies Suki with his unnerving pale stare. "I don't have to tell you that everything you've witnessed here is top secret."

Suki shakes her head quickly, finding her voice. "You can trust me," she says firmly.

Pakku blinks and looks away. "Very well. Then we'll end this meeting here and go our separate ways. Make sure to use the back exit and don't all leave at once now."

"C'mon." Lee tugs at Suki's arm, pulling her upright. "Let's fill in the others. We've got a long way to go before we reach the walled city, especially if we have to report back by the dark of next moon." He makes a face. "That doesn't give us much time before the day of -"

"Don't worry about it," drawls the woman with the familiar voice as she slowly rises to her feet and steps toward them. "If you're in a rush, I can give you a lift."

Suki gasps, realization suddenly hitting her like the dim glow of torchlight illuminating the bounty hunter's immaculately painted face. "Jun?" she chokes.

The bounty hunter's red lips curl into a smirk. "Well, if it isn't Suki, the lone Kyoshi Warrior." Her fingers trace the whip coiled at her hip. "How on earth did you get mixed up in all this?"