Chapter 3

Azula wakes to the sound of singing.

Guan, guan, the ospreys cry

My husband is gone

Yet another goodbye

Slowly, Azula opens her eyes, which feel thick and heavy. She's inside a dark, wooden enclosure; mushrooms and herbs hang from the low ceiling. They let off a pungent, earthy smell. Glass bottles full of dark liquids line shelves to her right. Pulling aside the thick, musty quilt covering her, Azula sits up quietly. Her mouth is dry, and her arm throbs with pain. Where is she? And who is singing?

He left for the city

He left by the sea

He left me still weeping-

The voice is male and soars clearly through the dawn silence.

Azula spots a squat wooden door on the side of the enclosure. Careful not to make a sound, she pushes against it, and a beam of light shines through the crack. It's not locked. The peasant doctor hasn't tried to imprison her.

As if he could, Azula scoffs. Through sliver of light, she can see the back of a man sitting at a small campfire, stirring a pot. She's about to slam the door open and demand the doctor apologize for shoving her in this cart when Temurin starts singing again. Her hand falls to her lap.

Yes, he left for his fortune

He left without me

So I cry with the ospreys

For things that can't be

Azula leans her head against the wooden wagon's side, keeping very still. It sounds like a woman's song. An old one. The melody reminds Azula of a river, the words tumbling over each other like the quiet bubbling of a stream. She thinks of an Earth Kingdom house she once saw from the back of a Komodo-dragon. The cottage had a thatched roof and sat amongst lush green crops. As Azula's convoy had passed, a woman stood up, adjusting her hat and looking right at Azula…

Now Temurin sings wordlessly, his voice climbing even higher without breaking. Even without words Azula hears the song's aching longing. She wonders who, or what, Temurin yearns for. Or what she yearns for. Temurin's voice grows quieter and deeper as the song descends.

"But why cry, but why cry, for things that can't be," he finishes softly. Azula sighs.

Instead of putting her in an asylum, Zuko should have kept Azula in a room like this, listening to someone sing. Her mind feels clear. Right now, she knows Zuko is not her enemy. She knows who she is. And she knows she can never be Princess Azula again.

It is possible to live by love, not by fear. Zuko told her that just before she left. In the stillness of the morning, that almost feels possible.

But not quite.

Azula slams the heel of her boot against the wooden door, exploding it open, and jumps down from the wagon. She planned to roll to the other side of the fire, but once she lands, she staggers. Her balance is completely off. The poison. Azula rights herself, clutching her arm, and stares at the thin, dark-skinned doctor.

"So you're alive," Temurin says warily.

"If I wasn't, you would be a terrible doctor," Azula snaps. For the first time, she looks at her arm in the full light of morning. The wound is bandaged. Good. The peasant already acknowledges he is in her debt.

"You've been asleep for nearly twelve hours," Temurin says. "You're lucky I was there to take care of you, girl." He crosses his arms as if he's in charge.

Azula laughs, a high, peeling cackle that once silenced a room of Ember Island teenagers. Take care of her? It's a good thing she has an excellent sense of humor. Otherwise, this peasant's condescension would mean his death.

"Examine my arm," she orders. "Something is wrong. I still feel…weak."

"Descriptive," Temurin smirks. But he complies, walking round the fire to roll up her right sleeve. Without waiting for further instructions, he starts to unwrap her the bandages around her upper arm. Half of Azula's sleeve has been torn away.

With steady, dark fingers, Temurin peels back the last of Azula's bandages. She fights the urge to push him away—since no one presumes to touch her without permission, the list of people who have actually been in contact with her skin are few. The imperial doctor, she supposes. Mai and Ty Lee. Perhaps her mother.

Certainly, no one with Earth Kingdom heritage has dared lay a finger on her.

"I'll need to reapply a poultice to reduce the swelling," Temurin says. He moves to get it from the wagon, and Azula realizes he's changed since yesterday. He now wears simple brown trousers, a green shirt, and a Fire Nation style maroon vest. In the sunlight his close-cropped hair looks more brown than black. It's only a few shades darker than his copper skin.

He's also less mocking than he was at the dock, and less desperate than in the alley. As he returns with a jar of green paste, his face is perfectly calm.

"The cut is shallow, so you don't need stitches," Temurin says. "I'm just going to—"

"I'll do it," Azula says sharply. She snatches the paste from his hand and uncorks the top. It smells horribly bitter. Cautiously, she daubs the poultice onto the swollen red skin of her upper arm. It burns.

"I've been thinking of how you can repay me," Temurin says quietly.

"Repay you?" Azula asks. "Peasant, I saved your life."

"Stop calling me that," Temurin snaps. "It only makes you sound more Fire Nation."

"I am Fire Nation," Azula says proudly. "Is that a problem?"

"Not for now," Temurin says grimly. "The Fire Nation still holds most of the Colonies. So for now, we're all Fire Nation citizens, aren't we?"

Azula narrows her eyes. "Some of us are more Fire Nation than others."

Temurin snorts.

"Too true. But let's circle back to the point," he says. "Can you pay for all the time and effort I've expended saving your life?"

Azula doesn't carry money. She never has. So she simply dabs on more poultice, waiting for Temurin to continue. He takes her silence as an answer.

"I thought not," he says smugly. "So I have another idea."

"Choose your next words carefully, doctor," Azula says with a wicked smile. "The last man who asked me for money ended up with a broken nose."

To her surprise, Temurin smiles.

"Precisely. You're an amazing fighter. I want you to work off your debt by becoming my bodyguard.

"Before you say refuse, hear me out. You're clearly running from something—or someone. I'm a traveling doctor. If you come with me you'll never stay in the same place more than a week. You protect me from roadside bandits, I tell anyone who asks that I'm escorting you home, and a few weeks from now we part happily with all debts paid."

"What makes you think I'm running?" Azula asks, lip curling.

"Oh please," Temurin answers curtly. "You speak like a noble but dress like a pauper. That means you're running."

Azula thinks hard. He's right about more than he knows.

"Let me," Temurin says. Azula starts as he begins to rewind the bandages around her swollen upper arm.

"You didn't ask," Azula says reflexively. Instantly, she curses herself. She sounds like a child.

"Go ahead," she orders. She stares out onto the morning plains, thinking, trying to ignore the gentle tug of fabric against her wound.

She came to the Colonies with only one plan: disappear. That goal is well achieved by travelling around with a doctor. And yet…Azula frowns. There is something decidedly off about Temurin. He was being beaten by some thugs—who were they? And just as she fainted, she remembers seeing a crowd of Earth Kingdom soldiers stumbling into the building Temurin had visited. What is his connection to them? Is he an Earth Kingdom spy? A criminal?

"If you're just a doctor, why do you need a bodyguard?" Azula asks aloud.

"Bandits have gotten bolder since the end of the war," Temurin says promptly. "The roads aren't safe anymore. And I carry valuable medical equipment."

"I see."

The Broken Plains stretch endlessly eastward, glorious and golden in the last throes of fall. The grasses wave. The sky is scattered with a few delicate, wispy clouds, like the ending notes of Temurin's village song. Temurin isn't lying. But it doesn't take a genius—and Azula is one- to see he isn't telling the whole truth.

"So…will you join me?"

"I guess I don't have much choice," Azula lies, making up her mind. Let the peasant think he's in charge; it does her no harm. She'll travel with him as long as she wants, and when the moment strikes, she'll leave.

"Excellent," Temurin says. "Then I guess that leaves one question. What's your name?"

"Nekana," Azula lies.

"Nekana," Temurin says slowly. "Like the Fire Nation character in The Dragon Queen?"

Azula remains silent. She does not like the glint in his eyes. Not at all.

The girl is silent as the wagon rattles across the plains. She hasn't spoken in hours. Nekana has donned a decades-old Earth Kingdom coat that Temurin used to cushion crate of glass bottles. Her padded coat front is casually unbuttoned to reveal her now sleeveless red Fire Nation tunic, maroon pants, and curve-toed boots. Somehow, the look suits her hunted expression. At any rate, she looks more like a Colonial citizen and less like a Fire Nation runaway. Temurin holds the reins to the ostrich-horse loosely in his right hand, watching the black-feathered neck bob up and down ahead of them. In a few days they'll reach New Azulon. Temurin's heart lightens at the thought of seeing his sister again. He has so much to tell her…

"What is my excuse for traveling with you?" Nekana asks suddenly. "Am I your wife? Apprentice? Daughter?"

"I already have a wife," Temurin snarls, too harshly. His chest constricts with a brutal, familiar emptiness, and he suddenly feels like screaming. Perhaps he would, if Nekana wasn't here. Jinlian, Jinlian… He shakes his head. He has to focus on today. The ostrich-horse's neck rises and falls.

Temurin turns to find Nekana staring at him piercingly, as if she knows everything that happened in Qima and before. Her golden eyes are unnatural.

"Apprentice, then."

"That won't work either," Temurin says, swallowing thickly. "We're picking up my nephew Jirou in the next town, and he actually will be my apprentice. And before you suggest it—" he preempts her "—you're too old to be my daughter. And I already have one." And nothing can replace her.

"For a man with a wife, daughter, and apprentice, you're awfully alone," Nekana says sharply. "Almost as if you don't want them around."

"I didn't hire you to ask questions," Temurin says shortly.

"Did you hire me?" Nekana says softly. "Or did you coerce me?"

Temurin shivers. The first star appears on the soft horizon.

And for the first time it occurs to him that he is alone on the Broken Plains with a woman he knows nothing about.