Water

The Northern Mountains: Part 1

"I don't know about this," Sokka hissed. "It seems risky."

Katara glared back over her shoulder at him. "It's a bunch of Earth Kingdom travelers telling stories. What's so risky about that?"

"We don't know them! For all we know, they could be—"

"What? They could be what?"

"Machete murderers," Sokka answered, his voice grave.

Aang popped up on his other side. "Why would anyone try to kill a machete?"

Sokka groaned audibly. "That's not what a machete murderer—"

Katara ignored him. The people in the little hollow below them were normal looking. There were twenty or thirty of them, men, women, and children of all ages, all dressed in various shades of green. None of them armed, all of them dressed for the cool of the evening. They couldn't be anything but normal travelers. No one who had worse intentions would be sitting out in the open like this with their children and their elders.

And Katara was itching to meet normal people. She'd been with the boys for almost a week now, and they'd never once seen another person. Before that, she'd only been around Zuko and his crew. It had been nearly a month now. Almost an entire month since she'd met anyone new, and it was beginning to grate on her. She had to talk to someone else or she was going to lose her mind.

She scanned the surrounding slopes one more time. It looked perfectly safe. They were miles from the coast, days north of Weiji, and tucked away high in the mountains. As much as Sokka might try to argue, there was nothing to be worried about up here.

"Come on, Aang. Let's go down there and meet them," she whispered. Before Sokka had a chance to protest, she ducked out from behind the boulders.

Aang leapt over Sokka and darted down the path, passing Katara less than halfway to the group of travelers gathered beneath a canopy.

"Welcome, welcome!" the old man at the front of the group called as they emerged into the soft torchlight, and Katara could hear the groan from where Sokka still crouched behind the boulders. "Come have a seat, young travelers, and hear of the great and wonderful sights there are to be seen in the northern mountains!"

Katara took a seat near the back of the group, while Aang remained standing, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He was probably eager to meet new people too, she realized. Out of the three of them, Sokka was the only one who didn't care for that part of traveling.

That was just too bad for him. She and Aang got to do what they wanted every once in a while too. Especially out here, far from the coastline where they could be certain that the Fire Nation wouldn't find them.

"If your friend is joining us too, now is the time," the old man at the front added. "I won't start over if he misses the beginning."

Katara didn't look his way, but she could imagine him rolling his eyes and kicking twigs and rocks on his way over. Too bad. He'd been outvoted this time. She fixed her eyes on the old man as he launched into his story.

Sokka stomped up from behind her and plunked down next to her.

"I don't like this," he said again in an exaggerated whisper. "We should be staying away from people. You know how dangerous it is out here—"

A woman with slate colored hair pulled into two smooth buns at the base of her neck turned a disapproving glare back over her shoulder, and Katara gave an apologetic smile.

She elbowed Sokka in the ribs. "Stop it," she hissed. "You're ruining the story."

"Oh, I'm ruining it? Look around, Katara. We don't know any of these people. We don't know if we can trust them. What if they—"

She gave Sokka her most venomous look before standing up and working her way around to a different seat along the side of the group. If Sokka wouldn't shut up and listen to the story, then she wasn't going to listen to him. He'd already been badgering her with questions for the past several days. The least he could do was let her enjoy a few minutes of distraction. That was only fair. Aang still hadn't held up his end of the bargain, so Katara wasn't going to say a word about what had happened on the ship.

And she still didn't have much to say. She still didn't know how to explain the terror that had consumed her at the beginning, or how it had softened until she wasn't afraid anymore. Until she came to trust the general and Zuko didn't seem like her enemy anymore. Or at least not her worst enemy. Until a truce with Zuko was the undeniable better option. Until that same hesitant truce saved both of their lives.

How could she possibly explain that? Especially to Sokka. Especially now. His questions had been growing less subtle, more obnoxiously insistent for days. If Katara tried to tell him anything at this point, Sokka would either cut her off in the middle of the worst part and never let her explain the rest, or he'd demand all the details immediately. And even though she was getting used to the memories sneaking up on her, even though she was more comfortable with the confusion, she still didn't know how to explain any of it.

She leaned back on her hands and tried not to think about it. With Sokka's eyes drilling into the side of her face, it was difficult, but she kept her eyes fixed forward and listened to the old man's story until everything else fell away.

He spoke animatedly about a city so high in the mountains that the clouds settled down in the valleys below and the people could walk across them to the nearest mountaintop without trouble. About buildings that defied gravity itself and spires that pierced the heavens, and people who could read the currents of the wind like a scroll. It sounded brilliant and fantastical and regardless of how impossible it all seemed, Katara found herself getting swept up in it. Once she started listening, it wasn't hard to stay caught up in it, to forget about everything before and to ignore Sokka's glaring eyes still fixed on the side of her head.

For a while, everything felt new and fresh and exciting. For a while, it was. Nothing else mattered when she could lose herself in a world like that, even if it had never existed, even if it never would.

The story ended sooner than she would have liked but Katara clapped along with the rest of the crowd as the old man passed around a hat, watching expectantly for coins to fall in. She felt around in her parka for a second before she remembered that Sokka was carrying the money. Darn. It was a good story, but she couldn't count on Sokka to offer up any of their coins in his current mood.

As the group started to dissipate, hardly seeming to notice the newcomers at the fringes of the crowd, Aang darted forward toward the old storyteller, and Sokka stood up too.

Katara let out a quiet groan. So much for her reprieve from Sokka's endless prying.

"What was that all about?" he asked when he came up beside her.

Katara stood and dusted off her backside. "You were being rude. Excuse me if I don't want to sit by the rude guy."

Sokka narrowed his eyes at her. "I was not being rude. You were being stubborn. I told you it was dangerous for us to come here, and—"

"Guys!"

The interruption came at exactly the right moment, and Katara breathed a sigh of relief as Aang bounded back to them.

"The storyteller says that his grandpappy saw airbenders just last week at the Northern Air Temple. Can we go? Please? Just to see?"

Sokka was not in a good mood. In fact, he'd go so far as to agree with Aang right now. He was grumpy. Deeply, undeniably, unrepentantly grumpy. And he wanted the whole world to know about it. Or for now, maybe just Katara and Aang. They'd do just fine.

Crossing his arms tight across his chest, Sokka kicked out his legs in front of him and let his face crease into a scowl. He wasn't just trying to crush everyone's fun. That was the most annoying thing. He was trying to be the responsible one and keep Katara and Aang far, far away from people who might want to hurt them. They couldn't possibly think that this whole trip was a good idea. It wasn't. In fact, the very best thing they could do right now would be to fly directly north, never stopping once until they reached the North Pole. That, or backtracking to find Dad. Anything else was an unnecessary risk.

Sokka crossed his arms tighter, and Momo chattered as if in reproach. Sokka didn't care. He was not going to cheer up just because Momo was trying to scold him. He didn't listen to scolding from lemurs.

"Please don't get your hopes up too high, Aang," Katara said, hanging over the front of the saddle. "I know you want to believe what the storyteller and his grandpappy told you, but you remember what happened at the Southern Temple. I don't want to see you go through that again."

Sokka huffed, his brows drawing lower and lower. He should have anticipated this too. Katara had just gotten back from being kidnapped, and now she was fussing over Aang. That was the exact opposite of what she should have been worried about. She ought to be dealing with her own problems instead.

"I know. I'm trying not to, but—" Aang looked upward, the reins hanging slack in his hands. "He sounded so sure. I have to at least look, don't I?"

And there Aang went again, playing right into it. Katara was clearly just trying to avoid talking about what had happened to her, and Aang ought to know better than to go along with it. They'd talked about this. Sokka was the leader. Hewas supposed to be taking care of all of them, and Aang was supposed to be helping him figure out the truth. But of course Katara was making that difficult, and of course Aang was taking her side.

"I guess." Katara turned partway back around. "Just—be careful, okay? Try not to believe everything that guy told you."

Sokka huffed again, and this time Katara glared at him.

"Can I help you, Sokka?"

He scowled. No. That was exactly the problem. She was too busy making up things to worry about to deal with the problems right under her nose. Problems that could only get worse if they continued to collectively ignore them. Zuko was still out there, after all. If Sokka didn't know the details of what had happened, he might not be able to prevent it happening again.

Sokka was a lot of things, but he wasn't the type of person to mete out justice without knowing exactly what that jerk had done to hurt Katara.

"You could tell us the truth," Sokka muttered.

"What was that?"

His frown deepened. "I said, you need to stop acting like we're going to forget what happened. Obviously you're not fine if you're not going to tell us anything."

Katara looked confused for a second. "What happened—" Her confusion lifted, and she shifted seamlessly into a glare. "How many times do I have to tell you to drop it?"

"Hey, I'll stop asking as soon as you tell me the truth. What did Zuko do to you?"

She shifted, looking uncomfortable. See? Ugh, why was Sokka the only one paying attention to this? This was not good. In fact, this was the very definition of not good.

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it," she snapped. "Just drop it, Sokka. I'm serious."

"Why? Was it that bad? Because I'm more than ready to kill Zuko the next time we see him. Just tell me what happened, then the next time we run into him—"

"Stop it, Sokka! Nobody's killing anyone."

"—you won't have to worry about him anymore," Sokka finished. "I'm trying to look out for you."

"I didn't ask you to look out for me. And you wouldn't be looking out for me by killing Zuko!"

Sokka jabbed a finger at her. "Ha! So you don't want me to kill him? Why? That's all I want to know."

Katara's mouth hardened into a firm line, and for a second, her glare almost looked like Gran-Gran's. But rather than speaking, she crossed her arms right back at him and turned to face forward again.

"How much farther, Aang? I'm tired of listening to Sokka."

"What? I'm not even saying much! I just asked—"

Aang looked back, his eyes wide, his expression just a little alarmed. Huh. He still hadn't grasped Sokka's lecture about arguments being normal, had he? But this was more important than most of their squabbles, and Sokka had no intention of letting it go. He had to know what had happened. He had to know exactly how much revenge he had to dole out, exactly how far he'd have to go to make sure that Zuko would never, ever harm Katara again.

It was for her own good. Sokka just wished that Katara would realize that.

"Can you two please stop fighting? Katara, can't you just tell—"

Even Sokka knew that that one was a mistake. He winced when Katara whirled toward Aang.

"You're more than welcome to hold up your end of our deal, Aang. But I'm not telling anyone anything until I'm ready and you both stop trying to drive me crazy."

Deal? What deal?

Before Sokka got a chance to ask, Katara pointed to a distant peak. "There! Is that it? It looks a little bit like the Southern Air Temple to me."

It did look like the Southern Air Temple. Pale spires stabbed upward into the sky, much higher and much sharper than any of the surrounding peaks.

Damn it. They weren't supposed to find the temple this soon. Appa's saddle was practically the only place where Sokka could corner Katara and get her to listen to his questions. As soon as they landed anywhere, she had a habit of running off and burying herself in waterbending practice or cleaning or something—anything else to avoid Sokka.

That wasn't going to work this time. This time, Sokka was determined to get to the bottom of things. The temple couldn't be big enough for Katara to avoid him the entire time.

As they flew closer, the tiny, dark shapes swooping through the air came into view, growing more apparent by the second.

"It's true," Aang said, almost in a whisper. "It's really true."

As soon as his strength and balance had recovered enough for him to walk, Zuko had taken to pacing the length of the cabin.

At first, Uncle had seemed worried by it. He'd said something about Zuko hurting himself—that there was a possibility that his injuries could act up, or that his balance could fail him, and he'd fall. Which was ridiculous, fussy nonsense as far as Zuko was concerned. He was fine. Or as close to fine as he could be with still-healing cuts and bruises and burns all over his body and aching ribs.

At some point, though, the worry had abated, and Uncle had decided that the pacing was actually a good thing. A good way for Zuko to regain his strength, to establish his equilibrium, and to keep his lungs working properly. It had taken a while before Zuko realized that Uncle must have been worried about the danger of pneumonia—between the near drowning and the broken ribs, that certainly wasn't impossible.

Zuko didn't care much for the health benefits of his pacing. He didn't feel any better from all the walking, but in some ways, a little pain was easier to manage than the questions that bombarded his mind every time he stopped. At least when he was moving, he didn't have to wonder so much about why Katara had pulled him out of the water. At least when he'd exhausted himself, he could lie down and drop off to sleep without thinking about what came next. Without dreaming about what had happened, about what still could.

And since everyone thought he was dead, pacing around Uncle's cabin was really the only option he had. At least it was larger than the cabin he'd grown accustomed to on his own ship. If Zuko had been pacing in a smaller space, he probably would have fallen over from dizziness.

But now, it seemed that even Uncle's enthusiasm for the health benefits of walking were beginning to wear thin. What was Zuko supposed to do? He'd only been at it for two days now. Or maybe three? He couldn't keep track of the time very well without light from the outside world, especially when he kept exhausting himself and sleeping at odd hours.

"Please, Prince Zuko. That is quite enough pacing for the time being."

Zuko scowled and kept going.

"I thought walking was good for me." Zuko didn't try to conceal the sarcasm in his voice. "That was all you could talk about yesterday."

"That was this morning. And walking may be beneficial, but it would be decidedly less beneficial to your health if someone chose to investigate the noise and found the late Prince Zuko circling his uncle's cabin in a nightshirt."

The nightshirt hadn't been his plan. Zuko hadn't asked to be dressed in a garment six sizes too large. That was all Uncle's idea. He'd said something about the looser fabric being less abrasive, less painful on Zuko's injuries, but this was ridiculous. But Zuko's old clothes had been badly damaged, and Uncle had insisted, and now Zuko was practically swimming in gold-trimmed silk.

"I'm not making that much noise, Uncle."

"It is not so much the volume that worries me as it is the pattern. You have been up and down this cabin countless times, Prince Zuko. If you are not cautious, someone may realize that there are two distinct strides in this cabin."

So what? As long as both of them weren't moving around at the same time, no one would know the difference. And so far, Uncle had been sitting almost the entire time that Zuko was awake. There was nothing for anyone to notice.

And truthfully, after seeing the box that Uncle had used to haul him onto the ship, Zhao's crew ought to be more surprised to find Uncle alone than to realize that Zuko was in here too. The box was gaudy and horrible and enormous. It looked almost like it was meant for smuggling bodies.

"What else do you want me to do, Uncle? I'm stuck in here. Everyone thinks I'm dead. Either I can pace around a little or I can lose my mind."

"Perhaps you could join me in a game of Pai Sho?" Uncle offered.

Zuko snorted. That had to be a joke. His head felt better, but not that much better. Even when his head didn't throb with each sudden movement, he barely understood the game.

"Or in a discussion of our next steps."

That sounded better than Pai Sho, but still not great. Because thinking about the future meant thinking about the fact that his ship was gone, and his crew was absorbed into Zhao's. Everything about that prospect made him uneasy. How could he continue without any resources? Could he catch up with the sky bison without a ship of his own? Would it do any good if he could? Uncle claimed that Katara was safe, but that didn't necessarily mean that she'd found the rest of her group. It didn't mean that she had stayed safe.

Not that Zuko should care. He'd done everything he could, and if she hadn't figured out where to go from there, it wasn't his fault. Why should it matter to him anyway? Even if he still had a ship, he wasn't convinced that he could go back to hunting Katara. He wasn't sure he wanted to. After—everything with Katara, he'd never escape the thought of the awful things that could happen if he brought her back to the Fire Nation. The monk probably wouldn't be much better, but Katara—

Would it even matter? If the world thought that Zuko was dead, was going home even an option?

It burned in his throat, but Zuko couldn't keep the question in.

"Does Father think that I'm—"

Uncle looked up, and Zuko found that he couldn't say it. He couldn't force the word out.

"I have heard nothing certain," Uncle answered gently. "But I would be rather surprised if Zhao had not sent word of the accident back to the Fire Nation by now."

Zuko regretted the question. Knowing that Father had approved of Zhao taking away his ship and his crew was bad enough. But if Father thought he was dead—Zuko wanted to yell, to bend at something, to do anything to get these feelings out of his chest, but he couldn't. He couldn't even hide from Uncle's steady gaze.

An anguished groan tore its way out of him, and Zuko crumpled to the edge of the bed. He pressed his head between both hands as if the pressure could force the thoughts out of his head or at least quiet them.

It didn't help. In fact, if anything, the thoughts got louder. And he could feel the stubble covering his scalp—Katara would hate that. She'd tell him that his hair looked stupid, and Zuko would be embarrassed, and he would inevitably retreat to his cabin to shave—but not this time. Katara wasn't here. No one would tell him that his hair looked stupid. And there was nowhere for Zuko to retreat anyway. Nowhere he could find even a moment of solitude to shave his head properly anyway.

He'd just look stupid, then. Out of spite. Spite that only Uncle would ever see.

An uncomfortable minute passed before Uncle spoke. "Prince Zuko—"

"How am I supposed to go home now?" Zuko burst out. "If everyone thinks I'm dead, would it even make a difference if I brought the Avatars back?"

"Shh, Prince Zuko. We must be quiet or you may be found out."

Would it matter? If Zuko couldn't go home, then there was nothing left for him anyway. His head dropped back into his hands.

There was some rustling and a few light footsteps, then the bunk shifted a little as Uncle took a seat beside him.

"Do not lose hope, Prince Zuko. The world is large and rife with possibility."

Zuko stared down at his knees. He didn't see how it could be. His original path home was long gone, and if Father truly thought he was dead, then it would be almost impossible to convince him otherwise. If he couldn't go home, then what was left for him?

"Since you are growing restless," Uncle added, "Perhaps it is time to find a way for you to leave this cabin."

Zuko sat a little straighter.

"Not immediately. Only when you have recovered sufficiently."

Zuko didn't care. As far as he was concerned, he was sufficiently recovered, but he could stand to wait another day or two if it made Uncle happy. Anything if it meant that his time cooped up in this little cabin was nearing its end.

Normally, Katara would have leapt at the opportunity to meet the people living at the Air Temple. All of them. She wanted to know how they used their gliders without airbending, and for once, she wanted a chance to talk to someone who wasn't Sokka or Aang. Finding the storyteller last night had been a pleasant surprise, but there hadn't been much chance for her to talk to anyone there. She wanted real conversation. That shouldn't be too much to ask.

But unfortunately, Sokka was chatting with everyone he could find. He'd detected a whiff of science stuff on the air, and there was no stopping him after that. Which wasn't a problem in its own right, but Sokka was slowly driving Katara to insanity. Much as she wantedto meet the refugees living here, she was even more interested in avoiding Sokka when he inevitably remembered their squabble and began interrogating her about Zuko's ship again.

She snuck away from the broad stone platform where they'd landed and was just beginning to turn a corner when a voice from behind stopped her.

"Where are you going?"

Katara started and turned back to find a girl with twin knots of hair at the top of her head staring accusingly up the path. For a second, Katara just stared. The girl was probably a little younger than Aang, but she held herself with a surprising amount of authority for her size.

"I don't know. I'm just exploring," Katara answered.

"Why?"

"Because I've never been here before."

The girl frowned and advanced up the path. "You're a stranger."

"I guess so. I'm here with the Avatar." It felt weird to say that again. "His people used to live here."

"But you're a stranger. Why don't you wait with the others? It's practically a party down there." The girl stopped just a few paces away. If they'd been on level ground, she might have come up to Katara's chin, but on the sloping path, she was closer to the level of Katara's elbow. "I'm sure they'd give you all a great big tour in a little while."

That was exactly what Katara wanted to avoid. She crossed her arms. It wasn't like she was planning to stick her head through every door and window to snoop on people's lives. She just wanted to wander for a while.

"Why aren't you down there if it's a party? There were a lot of kids on gliders. Wouldn't that be more fun than following me?"

The girl frowned. "Because I don't want to."

Well that wasn't very helpful. Katara rolled her eyes but relented. "I'm avoiding my brother. He's driving me insane."

That, for some reason, seemed to sway the other girl. She narrowed her eyes, tilted her head to the side, then gave a short, formal bow. "I'm Ehani."

A little bewildered, Katara returned the bow. "Katara."

Ehani grinned. "My little brother took my glider. Mom said I had to share with him." She started up the path, around Katara. "I can show you around." Without warning, she darted up to the next corner in the path.

Katara had to jog to catch back up. "Wait! Are you sure about that?"

Ehani gave a decisive nod. "You're not a stranger anymore."

Katara considered protesting that point. As far as she was concerned, people could know each other's names and still know next to nothing about one another. She knew plenty of strangers' names.

But before she got a chance, Ehani added, "Plus, my brothers and sisters are driving me crazy. If I can't use my glider, this sounds like the most fun."

Author's Note:

Yay for transitional chapters! Woohoooooo!

I was riding the struggle bus with this one. Then I tripped trying to get off the bus. Then the bus ran me over. I just... words. Words were hard.

But I got through it! And I'm making awesome progress on my Big Bang project (as in... more than 30k words in and a little over halfway through the first draft with a few months left to go), and I'm hoping that the next few chapters I have to edit will be a little less irritating. (They should be. If not, I'm gonna riot. Against... well, me.)

Anyway. I'm scaling back to updates every other week for the sake of my sanity, so Chapter 40 will be posted on March 14, and we'll go from there! Hope to see you back here then, and in the meantime, reviews are always appreciated!