Chapter 17
"Come away!" she says
With eyes of blue.
"The Arctic waves are calling…"
Jinlian loved this song, Temurin thinks as he sings, walking down the halls of the Red House. It's an old Water Tribe chanty, but Jinlian heard it from a merchant in Yu Dao and was captivated. She always wanted to visit the North Pole.
Temurin lowers his voice as he approaches Nekana's room. "My boat is sound; the water's cold—" He's checked in on her between giving the residents checkups, but Nekana's only woken twice to throw up and hasn't said a word. She should be conscious by now; Altan was up hours ago.
Temurin taps on the door, and, when he doesn't hear a reply, he walks in.
"…but I'll keep you safe from drowning," he finishes softly.
Nekana stirs at the sound of his voice. She looks dreadful, and Temurin is reminded of the first day he met her, when she was poisoned by one of Crooked Zhao's cronies. As always, when her guard is down she looks so much younger.
"Kana?" Temurin says, sitting next to her bed. He touches her forehead lightly. No fever, but she's covered in sweat. Her golden eyes flicker open, but for once she doesn't tell him off for touching her.
"Water," she croaks.
Temurin grabs the full glass next to her bed and helps her drink.
"What happened last night?" he asks. "After I left. What did you do?"
"I don't remember," Nekana says. She sips her water. She's lying.
"You need to tell me," Temurin insists. Even though the memory of their interaction last night still leaves him flushed with anger, he's a doctor first. "Did you smoke any yapian?"
"I don't remember," she counters defensively. She pushes herself up so she's sitting straight. "And what is it to you, anyway?"
There are many things Temurin could say. I'm your employer. Or you're young, and alone, and don't know half as much about the world as you think.
"You're my friend," Temurin says. "I care about you."
Nekana is quiet. She looks down at her cup of water like it's the most interesting thing in the world. One sharp fingernail traces a pattern on the scarlet bedspread.
"I'm sorry," she says, barely audible.
"Why?"
She meets his gaze. As always, her eyes are impossibly bright. "You know why."
Temurin bites his lip. He's never heard her apologize before. For anything.
"It's in the past," he says. Nekana's words seem to soothe the red burn he's felt for the past day. He wonders if things would have been different between himself and Jinlian if she had just said those two words.
Then he realizes something. "If you remember enough to apologize, then you can tell me—"
"There's something you need to know," Nekana says. She sits up gingerly and pulls a folded white letter from her pocket.
Altan's head throbs.
"So you're telling me that when I found you in Yu-chen's study, you already knew Mila and Yu-chen were planning to take over Bahasa, and you didn't tell me?" Altan asks.
"I was waiting until Temurin got back," Nekana says as she pulls on her boots. "We couldn't leave without him and Jirou anyway."
Of course she would wait to talk until Temurin got back. What could he, Altan, have to contribute?
"What's important is that we get out of here," Temurin says quickly, voice low. "We pick up Jirou and go."
"You work for Crooked Zhao," Altan points out. "Shouldn't you stay and help the takeover?"
Temurin looks at him as if he's completely insane. "Stay in a city that's about to be besieged? Or set ablaze when the Fire Nation comes to take it back? No, thank you. I'm taking Jirou and heading south to Qima. And you two should come with me."
"Ah yes, running. That's something I'm good at," Altan answers bitterly.
"If you want to stay, stay!" Temurin snaps. "You paid me for an escort to Bahasa, and we're here. No one is forcing you to accompany us."
Against his will, Altan glances at Nekana, but she's busy fastening her belt and doesn't seem to be following the conversation. When he turns back to Temurin, the older man's gaze is knowing.
"There's work for you in Qima if you want it," Temurin says kindly. "Let's go. Kana?"
"I'll meet you in Qima," Nekana says. She stands in front of an ornate mirror, styling her hair in a way she's never done before. Instead of a ponytail, she twists her hair into a Fire Nation topknot and ties it with a thin red ribbon. Two pieces of her hair hang down to frame her face.
"I have something I need to do for someone here, and I need to do it alone," Nekana declares, voice slightly distant.
"What?" Temurin spits. "Kana, don't be a fool! Come with us."
"I'll meet you in Qima," she says again. As if it's a reassurance.
"Will you?" Altan asks baldly.
"I—of course."
Altan may not be the best at reading people. But even he knows that Nekana is lying. There's something in her slender shoulders, in the angle of her set chin. Surely Temurin can see it too. Spirits, she isn't coming back. But there's nothing Altan can do or say to stop her, no real hold he has over her. Nekana really is like the fire she so easily summons: unpredictable, fierce, uncontrollable.
"Then please take care of yourself," Temurin says softly. "We will wait for you in Qima."
Nekana finishes tying her topknot and moves to kiss Altan goodbye. Fighting to control his anger and disappointment, he turns his chin away, and is slightly rewarded when real hurt blooms across her face.
"I will be back," she repeats unconvincingly as she hugs Temurin. The doctor squeezes her hand.
"Then go," he says.
It's only after she's climbed out the window that Altan realizes neither he nor Temurin offered to go with her.
The early evening air is crisp and expectant as Azula winds her way through the city. Her head is slowly clearing, though her stomach is tender. Without breaking her stride, she checks to make sure the package in her coat pocket is still there, but doesn't open it; yapian may help her access the Spirit World, but she's needed in this world now. A strong wind sweeps through the street and brings with it the faint smell of smoke. From the Earth Kingdom army that approaches? Azula picks up the pace, her Fire Nation boots tramping a heavy beat against the cobblestones. Destiny, destiny. There's not enough time for Zuko to send troops from the Fire Nation. But there's a garrison in Taiyang, and a few hours before the army arrives. She single-handedly instigated the fall of Ba Sing Se; surely she can ensure Bahasa lasts the night.
Half an hour later, Azula skids to a halt in front of the imposing brick edifice of the Mayor's office and home. Hands on her knees, she pants, wishing she still had one of those nimble mongoose-lizards that she, Mai, and Ty Lee used to chase the Avatar. Her breath clouds in front of her, and her lungs burn from inhaling the increasingly cold air. Painfully, she stands to assess the situation. Like so many buildings in Bahasa, the Mayor's office is built against the side of a rock pillar. The bottom half of the cliff tilts towards her, making it impossible for anyone to climb.
But Azula isn't anyone. She wraps her scarf tightly around her face, then lights two brilliant blue flames in her hands, pointing the fire downwards. Fire lies in the belly, Ozai had taught her. Use your anger. But instead, Azula finds herself thinking of her brother and of the two men she just left. Pale blue flames billow out of her hands. The fire scorches the cobblestone as Azula is propelled upwards, aiming for a narrow ledge in the rock that's level with one of the top windows in the building. She hits it hard, the rock digging into her stomach and knocking the wind out of her. Azula gasps for air. Torturously, she claws her way onto the ledge; when she's fully on top of it she flips to her back, trying hard to breathe. Stars float in front of her eyes, mixing with the real stars in the night sky. But there's no time for stars.
Azula braces herself, and then leaps across the narrow gap between the rock and the window. Screams split the air as she crashes through the glass feet-first and lands in a crouch. She's practically landed on a dinner table, around which are three terrified children and a couple. Food is strewn everywhere, mixed dangerously with glass from the window.
"Who is the mayor here?" Azula demands.
A skinny older man stands shakily amidst the broken glass. "I am," he says. "Who are you? What do you want?"
Azula unwinds the scarf from around her face, dropping it to the floor.
"I'm the Princess Azula. And you're about to do everything I say."
The army is almost here. Azula stands on top of Bahasa's city walls, earthbender-constructed walls that connect the outermost rock pillars of the city. For the first time in months, years even, she's wearing full Fire Nation armour, hair pulled up taut into a topknot. She finds she misses the feeling of her hair flowing loose around her face. And the plated metal is so much heavier than she remembers.
"Your Highness," Mayor Ginjiro says from behind her. "We sent the letters to the Firelord and to the garrisons in Taiyang and Yudao as you ordered. And we've rallied the police force. But there's no way we can stand against an army that size for long."
Azula strains her eyes in the dark, trying to see the army. Or a certain wagon fleeing the city.
"I've given orders that no one patrol this part of the wall," Ginjiro continues. "No one will know you are here."
"Good," Azula says. Now, how to proceed? She could go into combat herself, of course. But even she can't defeat an entire army. And the entire reason she's in hiding is so that Zuko doesn't have to deal with the political consequences of her continued existence. Maybe she could disguise herself as a messenger, and assassinate the general herself? But the idea leaves her strangely numb. Maybe it's still the yapian from last night, but stepping back into this role—being Princess Azula again—leaves her a little uneasy. And an assassination would undoubtedly start another war. All Zuko wants is peace.
"Our only chance is to delay them," Azula concludes. "Waste time negotiating until the Firelord's troops arrive." She turns to Ginjiro. "Send another messenger hawk addressed to the Earth Kingdom general in charge down there. Tell them you want to talk."
"Your Highness…wouldn't that be a job more suited for yourself?" Ginjiro's voice trembles.
Azula narrows her eyes. Ginjiro was one of her father's appointees, and clearly reached that position by bootlicking rather than by bravery or military service.
"As I've said before, my presence here is a secret," Azula says curtly. "You are the Mayor. You will negotiate. The army from Taiyang could be here by midday tomorrow if they are using their tanks." She paces the wall and grips the stone ledge. In the distance, she can now see the pinpricks of torches advancing on Bahasa. She hopes Temurin, Altan, and Jirou have made it out.
"Write down exactly what I say," Azula orders. "To the General: Your army is in direct violation of the agreement between the Firelord, the Earth King, and the leader of the new United Republic…"
