Disclaimer: For crying out loud, I don't own Avatar. I don't own Bumi's quirky little puns. I don't own Zuko's compulsive overprotective streak. I don't own...anything else that could give away hints aboutthis chapter. But if I managed to gather the Zuko Fan Mob and take over Nickelodeon...?

Author's Note: Big thanks to Wolfhawk, Khi, Kuposan, Miss Nekochan, and many more for all your help and suggestions, and thanks to all you reviewers who just plain inspire me to keep going with this! And I know this is a bit ahead of schedule, but I wanted to make up for the really long wait on the last chapter. Next update will be next weekend, most likely. Remember, your reviews make this story happen!

And for all of you who have rallied to try and assassinate Sen...(should I start a Sen Hate Mob now?) You should know that that makes me quite happy. I'm glad that I've succeeded in creating such a hatable character. Of course, she is a lot of fun to write, so you should expect to keep seeing her. For a little while, at least...

Angels never came down
There's no one here they want to hang around
But if they knew
If they knew you at all
Then one by one the angels
Angels would fall...
-Melissa Etheridge, Angels would fall

Chapter 14

Sen sat wearily on one of the stone chairs in a small room, her head reclined back as a little girl applied salve to her burns.

"How did this happen?" the child asked. Sen sighed bitterly, though she checked her tongue.

"I was careless," she said. "I got too close to a fire. That's all." The girl nodded, but looked uneasily at the severity of the burns.

"All right," she said at last, drawing a roll of bandages from a nearby table and winding them gently around the woman's wounds. She hesitated when she reached a wrapping over the Sen's right shoulder.

"I almost forgot about that," Sen mused, unwinding the old bandage. The little girl swallowed. A gash cut across the bounty hunter's upper arm, wide, though not deep, and bitterly discolored with the earliest signs of infection. She stared up at her senior.

"Why didn't you do something about this?" she pleaded. Sen shrugged, despite the slight tremor of pain that accompanied movement of the wound.

"I was preoccupied at the time," she said simply. The little girl nodded, though she was clearly unsatisfied.

"I'll find something for it," she said, finishing the other wrappings before slipping from the room.

Nearly a half hour later, the child returned. As soon as she was inside the door, she paused, trembling, her amber eyes wide, her face flushed, her short black hair disheveled, and her breath heavy. Sen leapt from her seat, every muscle tensed for attack.

"What's going on?" she demanded. "What's wrong, Ling Xi?" Gradually, the little girl's expression began to shift from that of shock. The corners of her mouth turned into an elated smile, and she stared up at the woman in wonder.

"I...I saw him..." she rasped. Sen glanced stealthily to the corner of the room, where her swords were leaned against the wall.

"Who?" she demanded, her voice a breath away from menace.

"The Angel Man!"

Katara shuddered, but said nothing. Aang and Sokka watched her carefully, but held back, unsure of how to help her. All three of them had already tried pleading with King Bumi and most of the palace guards, but their efforts had fallen on deaf ears. For the moment they just let her sit in the room the three of them now shared. It was luxurious, especially compared to their last stay in Omashu. Their prison cell had been an unusually fine one, but it blanched in comparison to the new room. Katara sat heavily on a pile of fluffy blankets that rested on a huge bed, and two more waited on the other side of a rich curtain. All around them, the walls were adorned with intricate mosaics, and elaborate ornaments were randomly scattered around them.

"Did you come up with anything?" Aang asked at last. Katara shook her head.

"It doesn't make any sense. Why would King Bumi believe her more than us?"

"We did kind of have Zuko with us," Sokka pointed out. "He doesn't exactly have the best reputation."

"And it didn't look like he really wanted to lock Zuko up," Aang added. "Sen could be forcing him to do it. Did you hear the way she was talking to him?"

"I wouldn't put it past her," Sokka growled. "That lady is just twisted."

"You're right," Katara said grimly, rising to her feet. Sokka nodded.

"Finally you admit it," he said.

"I'm going to find out what's going on here," Katara continued, ignoring her brother as she left the room.

Zuko's eyes flickered open for an instant, admitting dim green light into his vision. Only one idea permeated his aching skull:

I am hurt.

No more intelligent or elaborate thoughts could be formed. He felt horrible: sick and childish and needy and small and sore and weak and dizzy.

"Katara," he groaned as his mind slowly returned to his control. His voice was raw and cracked. He added another point to his list of complaints: I'm thirsty. But that could wait. First he had to wake up Katara. She was sleeping, of course, and hadn't heard him. But that didn't matter. Soon she would wake up, and she'd make everything better. His wounds would heal and his head would clear and his thirst would fade and he would feel happy and warm and loved.

But first he had to wake her up.

"Katara," he rasped again, trying to force his eyes to focus. "Where are you? It's...dark..."

How long was I asleep? It was barely even twilight when... Memory began to trickle back to him.

We came to Omashu...

We were at the market...

And then Sen showed up...

And she tried to hurt-

"Katara!" he cried, sitting up too quickly. His body protested violently to the offense, and he crumpled immediately. His breath was shallow and forced as he fought not to cry out at the pain. Dozens of once clotted wounds reopened, as his battered body tried in vain to function with beaten muscles and bruised flesh. His vision swirled in bright light and unnatural colors, blinding him to his surroundings.

Where is Katara? Where is Katara? What did Sen do? Please, please, please, don't let Katara be dead.

Please let her be all right...

His teeth were clenched against the pain, so hard that he feared they would break. An eternity passed, though it might have been a few seconds, and finally the pain ebbed away to a tolerable point.

"Katara...Please..."

She promised, he thought. She promised me. She said that she wouldn't leave me. She wouldn't break that promise. Not unless someone's keeping her from me.

"Where are you?"

Katara found it very easy to get lost in Bumi's palace. Considering his nature, she vaguely suspected that this had been the entire point of its construction, but it was frustrating nonetheless. At last she gave up and decided to ask one of the guards for help. Though she refused to admit it, she had developed a grudge against them all for treating Zuko so cruelly, but the labyrinth halls had left her with little other choice.

"Excuse me," she said, tapping one of the guards. He glanced at her, hesitating for a moment, then shrugged.

"Do you need something?" he asked.

No. I just always wanted to meet a guard. She pushed the sarcasm from her mind. Focus, Katara.

"Yes...I was wondering, do you know where Sen is? She's the woman who brought Zuko in..." The guard looked puzzled.

"She's in her chambers," he said. "Sleeping, I think."

"Sleeping? In the palace?" She has her own room here? Since when?

"Where else? She sleeps during the day. Works at night. Everyone knows that."

"Oh. Right. Thank you. And...could you help me find the King? I need to speak to him." The guard shot her another skeptical look.

"Sure..." he said. "Follow this hallway, go left when you reach the statue of the...'Flopsie'...and turn right at the second door. You'll probably find him."

"Thank you," Katara said again, hurrying off.

The guard's earlier words pressed on her mind. 'Works at night'...there was no need to wonder what that work could be. And it made enough sense; she had only seen Sen once during the day; all the other incidents had occurred near dawn or dusk. Strangely enough, it reminded Katara of the stories Sokka used to tell her when he wanted to frighten her. They were often about terrible monsters, which slept until sunset and drank human blood by the light of the moon.

"Hello, Katara." She jumped, half expecting to see one of the fairytale monsters lurking behind her. She relaxed somewhat when she saw the strange, wrinkled old face of King Bumi.

"Oh...it's you," she said. The old king grinned.

"Is there something you need?" he asked. "Or are you out for an afternoon spook?" His grin widened, and Katara could only assume that he had made some kind of joke. She smiled weakly at him.

"I...wanted to talk to you," she said.

"Congratulations. It seems that you've succeeded."

"No, I mean, about Zuko." She looked pleadingly up at the King. "He's hurt, and I swear, he didn't do anything wrong-"

"Attacking one of my guards isn't nothing, Katara."

"But he didn't! He got in a fight with Sen. That's all."

"Exactly. And she is one of the city guards for the last two weeks." Katara's eyes widened in alarm.

"No..." she breathed. "King Bumi, I don't think you understand. Sen is working for the Fire Nation. She's been working for Zhao for months, at least-"

"You know, it's rude to bore people with the redundant," Sen drawled, walking calmly down the hall. "You sound like an idiot."

"What?" Katara demanded, for an instant remembering those stories again. The bounty hunter shrugged.

"He already knows all of that."

"That's half the reason I sent for her," King Bumi agreed. Katara stared.

"You...sent...for one of the Fire Nation's bounty hunters?" she said.

"It can be taught," Sen remarked sarcastically. "Imagine that."

"Yes, but she's working for me now," Bumi said cheerfully.

"But..." Katara stammered. "She was working for Zhao. She's been hunting us like animals for months! She's from the Fire Nation-"

"Correct again!" Sen exclaimed. "Tell me, Katara, however did you figure it out? Was it the color of my skin, perhaps? Or maybe my hair? Or maybe it was my charming disposition?" She smirked coldly at the younger girl. "Oh, that's right. It's because I'm just plain evil, right? Because you know that everyone from the Fire Nation is. We're just a bunch of bloodthirsty killers, right? Just a bunch of power hungry monsters, out to take over the world. Every last one of us."

"Zuko's nothing like that," Katara snapped.

"Are you sure?" the bounty hunter jeered. "That's odd. Last time I checked, he's Fire Nation, just like me. In fact, he's our dear Prince."

"It doesn't matter. He isn't-"

"Then I suppose we're all just poor, misunderstood little lambs, then?"

"Stop that!"

"I'll do whatever I want," Sen said coolly. "You're the one who should watch your tongue. At least until you know what you're talking about." Without another word, she walked away, blatantly ignoring Katara's freezing glare.

"Arguments between women are fascinating," King Bumi observed cheerfully. "A little frightening sometimes, but fascinating."

"Your highness, please. I'm sorry about what happened, and I know that Zuko is, too. But we honestly didn't mean to cause any trouble. And I promise, if you'll just let him out, he won't do anything wrong. He isn't a bad person."

"Then why did he start a fight in my city?" the King asked skeptically. "Fire can do much damage when it goes awry."

"He wasn't 'going awry'. He was trying to protect Aang and me. Sen's been trying to kill us for months, and he thought..."

"I can understand him wanting to keep the Avatar safe," King Bumi noted. "But why would he care what happens to you?"

"Of course he cares!" Katara cried. "He loves me!"

"That's a bold sentiment," he said sagely. "Too bad it's wasted." He sighed. "Nothing is sweeter than unrequited love. It really is a shame that you don't feel that way about him-"

"That's not true!" Katara protested, a few breaths short of frantic. "I do love him! I wouldn't have agreed to marry him if-" her mouth snapped shut.

I shouldn't have said that. He isn't supposed to know that.

A mischievous grin spread across the King's face.

"I mean...I..."

"Married, him?" he crooned. Katara's face went red.

"I didn't say...I meant..."

"A wedding! Wonderful! Am I invited? Can Flopsy play the music?"

"I didn't..."

"You shall have to choose flowers at once! Do you have any bridesmaids in mind?"

"Please- stop..." Katara squeaked. After a few more babbled plans, he paused suddenly.

"So," he said cheerfully. "When's the wedding?"

"King Bumi..." she said helplessly. "Please don't tell anyone. Nobody's supposed to know!" He looked delighted.

"Nobody?" he asked slyly.

"We haven't even told Sokka and Aang yet."

"Aha! A secret engagement! How exciting." Katara was exasperated, but she couldn't help agreeing. Since Zuko had proposed officially to her, long ago, back on his ship, they had discussed their plans often, but as for an actual wedding...

"I'll keep your secret, then," King Bumi said. "No problem. But you have to keep me informed." Katara stared at him for a relieved moment.

"All right," she said quickly.

"So tell me, Katara. Why the big secret?" Katara looked uneasy.

"Sokka still kind of...doesn't like Zuko," she explained. King Bumi offered her look of mixed sympathy and amusement. He pulled a large melon from his sleeve. Why the King was carrying fruit in his clothes was a mystery to Katara, but she didn't comment.

"What's wrong? Cantaloupe?" Katara suppressed a groan at the pun.

"Well, eloping isn't exactly an option," she said, deciding to ignore it.

"And why not?"

"Zuko's a wanted man."

"It's a good thing you're not the jealous type." This time Katara released a hesitant laugh.

"Right. But we can't exactly walk into the nearest temple and ask them to marry us. Bounty hunters would be all over him."

"I see. That does pose a problem," King Bumi said thoughtfully. "But you know, marriage means commitment."

"I know that," Katara said evenly.

"Of course, so does insanity." This time her laugh was soft, but sincere.

"Does that mean that you'll let him go?" she asked. He looked pensive for a moment.

"No," he said at last. "But I'll tell you what you can do."

It took time and excruciating effort for Zuko to lift himself from his resting place. His sore muscles screamed in protest as he stretched them, hoping to loosen them enough for use. His body wanted rest.

Recovery.

But that wasn't an option at the moment. He had priorities.

First thing, he thought strategically. Find Katara. Make sure she's safe. Then find Sen's sorry hide and grind it into something sharp and coated with salt. Then escape from this wretched cell...Wait...No... It seemed that even his mind had lost a few faculties in the last fight. Slowly, gingerly, painfully, he continued his stretches. All four walls around him were solid stone; he would need a good range of motion if he intended to fight his way out of his prison.

"Excuse me," a timid voice said. Katara turned, slightly surprised. A young girl, barely nine years old, bowed meekly before she pointed a pale hand at the door frame that led to the dungeon. "Is that the Ange- I mean, Zuko's room?" She said his name carefully, her large amber eyes shining with hope. Katara turned to the guard that accompanied her. He nodded kindly, but the girl's hopeful eyes had turned to the doorway, and she didn't see.

"Yes, it is," Katara said. The girl smiled shyly.

"Are...are you going to go see him?" she asked. Katara couldn't help thinking that the child was the most adorable thing she'd ever seen.

"That's right," she told her gently. The girl's smile broadened into a relieved grin, and she took a glass container from one of her pockets.

"Can you give this to him?" she asked. "I saw that he was hurt, and this will help, and...and I hope he feels better soon."

"Thank you," Katara said. "I'm sure he'll really appreciate it." A cute little blush stained the little girl's cheeks.

"Really?" she asked hopefully. "It's a salve," she explained hastily. "It helps with cuts. And bruises, too. But he shouldn't eat it, or put it too close to his eyes."

"All right," Katara said, accepting the salve. The girl bowed shyly and darted away before Katara could say anything else.

"Sweet little kid," the guard said fondly, before turning back to face the 'doorway'. At the moment, it was a block of solid stone, identical to the wall around it, except for the carved frame that surrounded the large rectangle of otherwise empty space. "Prepare yourself for anything," he said, returning to a grimly determined demeanor. Firmly grounding his foot, he raised his arms, as though lifting something huge and heavy. Obediently, the stone wall shifted up from within the door frame. Sickly green light splashed out of the chamber, shedding some color on Katara and her guard. For a moment she saw a solitary figure silhouetted against the dim light, set in a hostile fighting stance.

"Zuko?" she asked automatically. The figure's head jerked to look at her face. Zuko tried to rise from the stance, but he overbalanced, stumbling to the side. In an instant, Katara was beside him, supporting him so he wouldn't fall. Once he was steady, she helped him to a rough stone pallet, the only furniture in the cell.

"Katara," he rasped, clumsily cupping her cheek with one hand. "Are you all right?" His voice was torn and ragged, and the rest of him was no better. She felt blood on her face where his hand touched it. His face had been scored with dozens of shallow cuts and cruel bruises, and his shirt had been reduced to dusty shreds, barely hiding hundreds more. It seemed that every inch of his body had been mangled.

And yet the first words out of his mouth were of concern for her! She wanted to hug him, but held back, too afraid that she would disturb the tender wounds and cause him even more pain. She looked questioningly at the guard.

"Please," she began.

"You have one hour," he said firmly, before backing defensively from the room and sealing it behind him.

Katara quickly put the salve aside and unfastened her water skin, drawing out an orb of crystal clear water.

"You need to drink something," she said. He nodded wearily and lowered his face to the orb, sipping it as it hovered above her hand. Often he coughed, doubling over from pain. Katara nearly let the orb fall, but he stubbornly shook his head and took another sip, soothing his parched throat.

Finally his thirst was sated, and though he still sounded weary, his voice wasn't so raw. He was in some comfort, at least, as Katara's hands glided just over his skin, bringing cool relief to his wounds with the Water Healing.

The injuries still looked raw, though, and she decided at last to use the salve the little girl had given her. Katara had been cautious about the gift; she didn't doubt the girl's innocence, but there were too many people (mainly Sen) who would gladly put a container of poison in the hands of a child.

Tentatively, Katara rubbed the salve onto her fingers and touched them to one of the largest cuts. Zuko jerked, and he sucked in his breath in a fierce spasm.

"Sorry," Katara said quickly. "Did I hurt you? Did I-"

"It's all right," Zuko said gently, catching her hand in his, and gently replacing it on the gash on his chest. Katara hesitated before Zuko caught her in his powerful gaze. She could feel the strained cadence of his breathing, the simple rhythm of his pulse. "It stings a little bit. Keep going." He cringed as she continued to apply the medicine, but made no complaint.

"You don't have to stay here, Katara," he told her as she unwrapped gauze bandages from her pack.

"I know," she said. "But I want to. I want to be here with you."

"Not just in the cell. In the city. You can go wherever you want. You don't have to stay here for me."

"I'm not going anywhere without you." She began to wrap the most severe cut on his chest.

"You won't have to," he insisted. "I won't stay here either. I'll take the first chance I can get to escape. I'll follow right behind you." Katara shook her head.

"No...you can't escape from here," she said.

"I can, Katara. I'll find a way."

"That's not what I mean...I know you can. But please, don't." Zuko looked puzzled.

"Why not?"

"Zuko, you aren't here because you're being punished. King Bumi...he's trying to protect you."

"And how was he planning on doing that?" he asked a little too sharply. Katara looked uneasy as she began to wrap his forehead.

"He knows that you didn't do anything wrong. But nobody else believes it. The people of the city...there's thousands of them...and they won't let you leave the city alive. King Bumi had to put you here, or Sen would have told them, and they'd have sent somebody to kill you." Zuko looked almost hurt.

"I can handle an assassin," he protested.

"But can you handle a thousand?"

"Are you...asking me to just accept this?" he asked. "To stay here? I can get out, Katara. I know I can. You know I can."

"I know," Katara said softly, taking his hand, steadily meeting his gaze. "But I'm begging you: please, stay alive. I don't want to lose you." Behind her, the wall opened, admitting the guard.

"You're out of time," he said stiffly. "It's time to go." Katara gave Zuko's hand a gentle squeeze, and stepped away from his pallet, out of his small, dimly lit cell, into the cruel brightness of the free world.

The days seemed to pass at a cruel rate for Katara. The palace guards, convinced that Zuko was a psychotic monster, only allowed her to visit him once a day, and then only for a half hour. She felt horrible, but was determined not to let Sen's schemes completely ruin her mood. Searching for a distraction, she continued to train Aang when King Bumi wasn't teaching him to Earthbend. Occasionally she watched the lessons, as well as Sokka's personal training. When all else failed, she began to explore the vast hallways of the palace, searching for nothing in particular.

It was during one of these walks that she stumbled on a garden. It was large, set on the roof of one of the towers, and filled with elaborate foreign flowers and herbs. Katara wandered aimlessly around the plants, wondering vaguely what they were, and where they had come from, and why these were apparently the only ornaments in the palace that weren't made of stone.

She almost didn't notice when she reached a small jade fountain, merrily churning water into the air before it landed in a small bowl. The latter was uninteresting, except for the fact that it was being held by a little girl. The child glanced up idly, and then again, in sudden surprise, accompanied by a slight cry.

"Oh! Sorry," she started, though Katara had no idea what the girl was apologizing for.

"Don't worry about it," she began. "I didn't mean to scare you..."

"Sorry," the girl said again, bowing slightly after she placed the bowl on the ground. "Can I help you with anything?"

"No, that's all right," Katara assured her. "I was just looking around...and I wanted to thank you for the salve. Zuko did, too. It really helped him." The girl's face brightened instantly. A broad grin spread across her face, and her eyes glistened in awe.

"Really?" she squeaked happily. "I hoped so! I worked really hard on it!"

"You made it?" The child nodded vigorously.

"My mother taught me how. She knows everything about plants."

"Wow. Are these her flowers?" Again, the little girl nodded. Katara smiled at her enthusiasm, then remembered herself. "Oh, and I'm Katara. What's your name?" The little girl grinned again.

"I'm Ling Xi," she said with another short bow. "Pleased to meet you."

Zuko stared blankly at the wall before him as he sat on his pallet. Katara had already come to see him, and the idiot guards weren't about to let her come back. He had practiced Firebending, though the endless repetition was beginning to grind on his nerves, and the smoke he created seemed to take forever to escape through the sparse ventilation shafts.

He had only been imprisoned for five days, and already he felt the burning hunger to escape, if only to disturb the sheer monotony.

It must be that blasted Karma that Uncle was babbling about, he mused miserably. He really missed Uncle Iroh and all his maddening habits. This is what I get for trying to capture Aang for six months.

A section of the wall rippled and vanished, and two Earthbending guards entered, quickly closing the door behind them. This was his other daily visit- the imbeciles who received the task of bringing him his meal. Neither of them felt any measure of warmth toward the Prince, usually ignoring him completely. He responded in kind. Yet today they glanced at him as they set about their task, though they didn't pause their conversation.

"-You must admit that it's a clever plan. There's no way she could lose,"the first guard said.

"There's plenty of ways," the second argued stubbornly.

"Is not! Imagine: if our side wins the war, she's got nothing to worry about. She's friends with the Avatar! It ain't like they're going to argue with him! And if our side loses-"

"Don't even joke like that!" the second guard spat.

"I'm just being realistic. If we do lose, where is she? Kissing up to the Fire Nation's Prince! And is anybody going to say a word? 'Course not, unless they want to deal with him," he waved a hand at Zuko, who was now watching them coldly. "You've got to face facts: she's got power, even if she is a slut."

"Shut up." Zuko growled, rising from his bed. His eyes were narrowed, but they blazed dangerously in the midst of his scarred face. One of the guards raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong, boy?" he asked. "Don't like the way I'm talking about your little-" He had no chance to finish before Zuko's fist connected with his jaw, throwing him back several feet. The second guard tried to attack, but he, too, was hurled across the room, this time by a vicious kick. The guards were struck by another barrage of attacks, until they landed in a heap outside the cell.

"You will not speak of her like that again," Zuko commanded, standing regally just within the door. The guards scrambled to their feet in all but panic, rushing to close the door before he could come through after them.

But Zuko had no intention of following the guards. Katara wanted him to stay there. And that's what he planned to do, until she said otherwise.

As for the guards...he had done worse to a greater number in the past. Reminding a pair of foul mouthed Earthbenders of their manners had been no difficulty. He grimaced as he picked up what seemed to be a piece of bread from his meal.

"He's getting more dangerous," a worried man muttered.

"I'm not surprised."

"I didn't ask if you were surprised," he snapped. "You're supposed to do something about it!"

"And I will. Just not right away."

"Then when?" he demanded. Sen leaned casually against the wall.

"Tonight. You'll see your results tonight."

Katara shifted fitfully in her sleep. Her dreams were scattered and random, but at last her mind slowed enough for her to make sense of the images.

She was in Zuko's arms. He held her tight, close.

"I'm cold," she murmured.

Sokka stood nearby, his boomerang readied for battle, with an imaginary foe, most likely. Aang was more distant, watching her and Zuko with heavy eyes.

"I'm cold," she said again. Zuko pulled her closer, letting his normally hot breath dance on her neck. But only frost formed on her clothes, driven on by a chilling wind. She shivered and nestled deeper into his embrace, hoping for some shelter from the frigid air and the dense fog that was closing in. All around them, the earth began to lose its color, fading to desolate gray.

"It's coming," Sokka said quietly.

"Katara!" Aang cried. "Get-" She heard a heavy thud, and he fell to the ground, a knife in his back.

"Aang!" she screamed.

Sokka raised his boomerang to fight, but stopped in his tracks. He was frozen in place, as though encased in ice.

"Sokka! Sokka!" Behind him, an ominous figure approached through the mist. Katara couldn't see its face, but she didn't need to: there was no mistaking that skeletally thin body...

"Zuko..." Katara whispered, trying to find her water skin, but it had disappeared from her back. Her knife was also gone. Zuko said nothing. The figure approached, drawing a long, vicious dagger.

"Zuko!" she tried to hide her face in his chest, but he seemed to turn away. Her eyes opened in confusion, and she saw him fall to the gray earth, his eyes blank and unseeing.

"Zuko!" She turned to face the figure, raising her arms in a feeble shield as Sen's knife was plunged down-

Katara bolted up in bed. Her breathing was painfully heavy, her eyes wide, and her entire body was drenched in a cold sweat. She forced herself to still long enough to listen.. Aang's peaceful breathing sounded from a bed close to hers. Sokka was snoring contentedly on her other side.

It was just a dream, she told herself. Just a dream...Just a...

Her eyes adjusted more fully to the darkness, and she noticed a slow, subtle movement. Her gaze fixated on a dark human figure, looming ominously over her bed.

"Wh-who's there?" she whispered, but she didn't listen for a reply. Her eyes had finally locked on the figure's hand, and the long, fanglike object that rested there. It flashed as it caught a speck of light from the shaded window.

A knife.

And Katara did the only thing left in her power.

She screamed.

Zuko's eyes flew open at the sound of the cry. It was long, terrified, blood chilling, and hauntingly familiar. But nothing prepared him for the scream's sudden end.

"Katara?" he said, leaping from his bed. "Katara!" In two strides he was at the blank wall where his door should have been, pounding his fists against the wall.

"Hey! Open this door! I need to go to Katara! Let me out! In mercy's name, let me out!" Yet only the cold silence met his pleas. He withdrew from the wall, his eyes wide with horror. His hands were bloody from pounding on the stone wall, but he didn't care.

"LET ME OUT!" he shouted into the empty air, sending a blast of flame at the wall, and another, another, another. Around him the air rippled with the heat of fury, of his attacks, but most of all, of fear.

He would melt the entire palace, if it would help him get to Katara. But that would make no difference.

Not if he came too late.