They landed a short time later, giving everybody a chance to walk around, stretch, use the bathroom. That was why Aang said he was landing. After Zuko left to use the bathroom, though, Aang and Sokka surrounded Katara. Iroh stood nearby and paid attention.

"What was that?" Sokka asked. "He was talking like a normal person for once, and you asked him a question everybody knows he won't answer? Why?"

Katara's face hardened. "Didn't you hear what he said? Something did happen with the water spirit, and he's hiding it."

"So?" Aang asked. "Whatever happened, it didn't hurt anybody. If he doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to talk about it."

Katara glared at him. "Aang, that's not the only thing he's hiding. He's keeping secrets from us."

"That sounds...fine?" Aang started to sweat. Having Katara glare at him was horrible. He didn't want to fight with anyone, but especially not her. Her glare made him want to take back his words. But he could not - he had to stay true to what he believed.

"It's not fine! He's Zuko. Whatever he's hiding could get us all killed."

"Uh… I think that's a bit of a stretch," Sokka said. "He's not the sort of guy who would kill anyone, and he could capture Aang any night he wanted. I haven't seen him even try."

"That doesn't mean he can't be hiding something dangerous from us," Katara retorted. "Did you hear what he said about his mysterious childhood friend that not even his uncle knows about? How can you trust someone who hid someone from his entire family?"

"Wait, wait," Aang said. Katara was getting more angry, going in directions he didn't expect. He had to stop this now, or his stomach would leap up into his throat and keep him from saying anything at all. "How does that make him dangerous? It just means -"

"Aren't you listening?" she asked. "He isn't telling us things about the water spirit! He didn't tell us that it was following us, and it nearly killed us! Is this friend of his going to come chasing after us next? Are we going to find out something else about the water spirit the hard way?"

Those questions made sense. Aang closed his mouth. He didn't think Zuko should be forced to tell them things he wasn't comfortable with. But it was true that they had nearly died because of something he hadn't shared. "Wait a second. That wasn't a secret. He thought we knew the water spirit was following us."

"And how did he know it was following us?" Katara asked. "He lied about how he knew."

Aang's head was starting to spin. "But he still didn't deliberately put us in danger." Was there something he was missing? Was he following too slowly? Katara's answer didn't seem related to what he'd said. Aang struggled to make sense of what she was saying.

Katara paused, took a deep breath. "Even if it wasn't on purpose, we almost died because of him. He's prince of the Fire Nation. His secrets are important. We need to know them."

Aang shook his head. "I don't know… It doesn't feel right to accuse him of things just because he has stuff he doesn't want to talk about. Everybody has stuff like that."

"How did we end up talking about this again?" Sokka asked. He traced lines in the air with one finger. "Oh, right. I wanted to know why you made him clam up. I still want to know that."

That was right! Aang realized they'd gotten completely off track. Why did Zuko keeping secrets mean she should make him stop talking? Wait, didn't it mean the opposite? Aang was confused again. "Shouldn't you keep him talking if he's hiding things…?"

Katara tried to answer, but couldn't. What she had done really made no sense. She had known he wouldn't answer her question, so why press him into silence? She blushed and looked down. It made Aang want to comfort her, cheer her up, reassure her that she'd had her heart in the right place. But there was no way around the fact that she'd done the wrong thing.

"Thanks for looking out for everyone," he said. "But I think we've got everything under control."

She blushed harder. "Yeah. I think I let my anger get the better of me. I wasn't thinking straight."

Aang gave her a hug. "That's okay."

She hugged him back. "Thanks, Aang."

Aang smiled. He hated arguing with her, but he loved her embrace more. He would confront her a thousand times if that was what she really needed. He felt bolder, stronger, from having done so. He had a feeling like he would remember this conversation for a long, long time.

.

There was stretching, and walking around, and using the bathroom. Aang gathered grass to make whistles from. Katara volunteered to steer. And Sokka got bug bites. Just when he had restrained himself long enough to lose the urge to scratch, Momo licked at another bug that had gotten onto his legs, making them itch like crazy again. He went wild. By the time they were ready to get back in the air, his lower legs were bright red, covered with scratch marks, and too painful for Sokka to touch even lightly.

"Why am I delicious?!" he shrieked.

"Maybe it's something about your diet," Aang suggested.

"I'll mix up some more bug lotion next time I have the chance," Katara said.

Zuko returned toward the end of their break, much later than he should have if he was just using the bathroom. He looked calmer, or at least more prepared to keep himself in check. He said nothing and curled up against the back end of the saddle with his arms crossed.

Katara approached before they took off. "Hey, um…" She found herself without words. What was she going to say? What was she sorry for? No words leaped to her tongue, no phrasing appeared in her mind, nothing.

Zuko filled in the gap in her place. "I am not going to apologize for trying to be nice. Go away."

Katara bit back a retort about how he could have let finish her sentence and forced herself to turn and sit between Appa's horns even though that felt like letting him win. She lifted off in tense silence.

She was tense for another reason. It had seemed like she didn't have to worry anymore about being unreasonable, that Zuko was earning every bit of suspicion. But Aang and Sokka had looked confused when she tried to explain. It didn't make that much sense when she thought about it. What had he done since joining their group to deserve to be called an enemy?

But… Katara resisted letting go of her suspicions. What if she was wrong? What if they were all wrong? What if what Zhao said was true? He had switched sides once to travel with them, and he might switch back. It made her skin crawl to imagine turning her back on him and trusting him just because Aang and Sokka thought she should. Shouldn't someone be keeping an eye on the firebender in their midst?

What should she do? What could she do? It seemed both impossible and wrong to blindly trust an angry firebender, but their conversation showed that it wasn't impossible. She had no idea how that conversation had happened. He had only asked those questions because something last night had changed his mind about the water spirit. She couldn't make that happen again.

And anyway…

She wasn't sure she wanted to. Something about the conversation had made her uneasy while it was happening. It was strange. Unbelievable. Too good to be true.

Maybe there was a reason why she had ended it.

The sun was high enough to be in her eyes as she flew. She squinted to shut it out. It would be good to be somewhere dark right now.

.

Zuko wished he was at the North Pole, able to disappear into the night in a field of snow drifts. Sitting in the shade of some trees was better than nothing, but not nearly enough. It couldn't make him feel safe.

How had Katara deduced that something had happened with the water spirit, just because he wasn't focusing on going north as much as usual? Zuko felt terribly exposed. If she found out that he and the water spirit were linked…

That's it. No more talking about the water spirit. I can't mention interacting with it, talking to it, or seeing it. If it keeps appearing to me and nobody else, she's going to know. I have to keep it as far from me as possible.

That meant he would have to do his best to avoid situations where he would need its help. No walking on water, no using water to carry anything, no using it as a shield or a weapon. I shouldn't even use it to find my way around. She might figure out what that means. He could admit it to himself; she had him spooked. He had thought himself comfortably unnoticed in a group of oblivious people. Apparently not. At least one of them was sharp-eyed. How could she not notice the fraud lurking in their midst?

That was what he was. A fraud. If anyone knew the truth, they would throw him out for sure. He was a fugitive from everyone. He had to hide everything.

It was so horrible when the fire spirit burned me and nobody believed me. They all thought I'd burned myself and wouldn't change their minds no matter what I said. It was like I never spoke in the first place. But there was something comforting about being overlooked, too. He hated being mistaken, but being truly seen scared him. He was glad Katara was steering Appa instead of watching him.

The Avatar blew a high-pitched note through his grass whistle. "Yes! I knew this was good grass."

The Avatar, on the other hand… He didn't notice the fly riding on his left shoulder. He was the most dangerous person in the world to the Fire Nation, but not to Zuko.

The Avatar played a short tune using the grass as a flute with a five-note capacity. He grinned when he was done, and Iroh and Sokka clapped. He bowed to them like it was a performance.

Momo tilted his head, looking curiously at the grass whistle. He took it from the Avatar and tried it. He made a thin, shrill whistle that caused his fur to stand on end. Momo threw the grass away and hid behind the Avatar.

Zuko picked it up. A grass whistle. He remembered hearing about them. He had tried to make one once. He couldn't get it to work, and Azula had taken it to laugh at with her friends. The next time he'd had music lessons, the teacher had remarked on his new interest in woodwinds. That was the end of his attempts to copy what he heard other kids were doing. I'm not like other people. I'm different. I'm a prince.

"Do you know any tunes?" the Avatar asked him.

Zuko threw the whistle away. He did know some tunes. He could even think of one or two that they might like. But he was not like other children, and he did not play with grass whistles.

The Avatar picked up his grass with a wounded look. "Guess not." He started to play another tune. It sounded sadder.

Zuko thought about taking it back the next time the Avatar stopped. His fingers twitched. But anything he played would betray how different he was. He couldn't risk Katara overhearing.

So the Avatar repeated the few tunes he knew, and Zuko played nothing at all, and Sokka yawned and rubbed at his legs and Iroh watched the clouds.

.

Even Iroh could tire of whistling after a while. He held up a hand. "It's been half an hour, young Avatar. My ears are starting to ache."

Aang put the grass down. "Okay. I just couldn't think of anything else to do."

"Why don't we tell stories?" Iroh asked. Telling stories was wonderful. He truly believed it brought life to the heart and spirit.

Aang thought for a moment. "I got one! Once, when I was practicing my flying with Appa, we went to this little beach where there were huge fish leaping out of the water everywhere. I made a basket and tied it to my legs, like a bat, and me and Appa flew side by side over the water as the sun was going down. I caught two fish! I would have caught a third one, but the basket was too small."

"Were they delicious?" Iroh asked.

"Yeah!"

"Mm. I must visit that place someday." Iroh drooled at the thought of good fish. He hadn't had any since they left the ship.

"I have another story about fish," Aang said. "One time, there was this giant eel, and I rode it around the whole bay! I blasted air at the water to make it rear up and I sat right behind its head and steered it around like an ostrich horse. It tried to shake me off, but no eel is too slippery for me!"

"That's true," Sokka said. "Did Zuko tell you about the other giant eel-thing he rode?"

Iroh shook his head. Zuko did not tell him anything about what the Avatar did, especially not if he was the loser. Unless Iroh was there to see it, he didn't know about it.

"It's called the unagi, Sokka," Aang said. "When we were on Kyoshi Island and Zuko attacked, I rode the unagi. It was huge, and dark brown, and really slick, and it could spray jets of water strong enough to wash a man away. It sprayed water over the whole village and put out all the fires."

Zuko said absolutely nothing, as usual. Iroh was thinking of talking sternly to him about it. He wouldn't normally consider pressuring his nephew, but the complete lack of participation was getting ridiculous. In the meantime, Iroh filled in for him. "It sounds like a tremendous beast!"

"It really was." Aang shivered. "I tried riding it before that. It was not fun."

Iroh sighed. "I wish I could say I'd had such adventures. My boyhood was spent preparing for war." It was in his adulthood that his greatest adventures had occurred. He recommended adulthood highly.

"That sounds so dull!" the Avatar said. "The Fire Nation is hurting itself by having this war. It's turning into a nation of mean people who don't have fun. I have to stop it." He opened up one of the packs and rummaged through it. He pulled out one of their waterskins and began to practice waterbending.

Oh, dear. It looked like their descriptions of their home were inspiring the Avatar to practice harder. Zuko probably wasn't happy about that. Iroh glanced to his right and saw Zuko sulking with an intensity rarely seen outside of an overheated boiler. Iroh knew from experience that he should be left to depressurize on his own.

Unfortunately, they were all sitting within hearing distance of each other on the back of a flying bison. "Have you ever ridden something huge?" Aang asked Zuko.

"You mean aside from this huge hairball?"

"Um…"

"No."

After snapping out his answer, Zuko leaned back and resumed his brooding. The Avatar was lucky. That was the mildest response he could have gotten.

Iroh caught the boy's attention and shook his head. He made gestures that suggested staying away from Zuko. Aang nodded. He lowered his head and concentrated on swirling water through the air.

Sokka shuffled closer to Iroh. "He puts an end to everything," he whispered. "Talking, jokes, fun. As soon as he shows up, it ends."

That was accurate. Honestly, Iroh was getting tired of it as well. "I have an idea," he announced. "Why don't we spend a nice, long day relaxing away from each other?"

"Uncle, that is the best idea you have ever had," Zuko said.

"You want to not be traveling with us?" Sokka asked hopefully.

Zuko blinked. "No. I just think a break is a good idea. You people put an end to everything. It would be good to be able to have fun for a change."

Sokka's jaw dropped open. He made inarticulate squeaking sounds. Aang froze his water before he could spill it. "You have fun?"

Zuko glared. "I'm allowed to have fun."

"I've never seen you have any."

"That's because you're around."

"I've also never seen you have fun," Iroh said.

"It's only when I'm alone."

Iroh's perspective shifted, certain things snapping into focus as if a new lens had been added. He knew Zuko was in the habit of sneaking off, typically at night, typically when he was upset. The night when he had captured the Avatar was just one of many nights where he'd taken the raft and headed for land. He never explained what he was doing, and Iroh never asked. What his nephew did to blow off steam was none of his business.

The one possibility Iroh had never considered was that Zuko could be playing games out there. Laughing. Enjoying himself. That brought to mind a host of strange mental images, ones that made Iroh want to laugh, such as Zuko playing cards in some Earth Kingdom inn. Completely preposterous! Or so he had thought.

Was it possible that his nephew was a completely different person when not required to be a prince, and he'd failed to notice?

Zuko looked away, off the side of the saddle, as if he'd already revealed too much. Iroh was staggered by what he had revealed already. His curiosity was built up into a great roaring fire. He so wanted to meet Zuko's fun-having alter ego! What would that version of his nephew be like? Would he tell jokes, make bets? Did he smile? It had been a long time since Iroh last saw his nephew smile.

The version of Zuko that sat in the saddle now did not smile. He revealed nothing in his face, surrounded himself with a moat of silence and an armor of crossed arms.