A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad people are enjoying this. I wish Bumi were available to put a plan like this together, and that Aang was advancing on learning earth-bending, but I guess we wouldn't have a show to watch much longer if that were true. Instead we have Sherlock Sokka!

Now it's back to Katara.

Disclaimer: Okay, I don't own Avatar or its characters. Owell. I'll get over it. So will you. In the meantime…

CHAPTER 8:

With the first explosion, people at the festival looked to the sky, anticipating fireworks. When none appeared, some looked around in confusion. After the second explosion the Fire Nation troops assigned to patrol the festival starting moving towards the bridge and the garrison. As the sky in the Fire Nation sector brightened with the light of the burning building, this movement became a run. Soon the whole plaza seemed to swell in that direction as more and more people read the signs of an emergency situation.

Katara had already left the circle by the time the first explosion occurred. She had slung Sokka's and her instruments across her back and begun walking, at a strolling pace, towards the river. She had no desire to draw attention to herself. She flinched with the first blast, and had to force herself not to break into a run right there. She was well out of the plaza with the second blast, and allowed herself to move more quickly as she found her way along the riverbank.

Near the river's bend on this side there was a wide swath with no development. It was obvious that the area was subject to flooding, and city memory was old enough to avoid such danger spots. As a result, the whole area was cast in darkness, more stark after the artificial brightness of the torch-lit plaza and lit windows of surrounding buildings. Katara waited briefly for her eyes to adjust, and then plunged down the embankment.

A sandbar extended into the flow at this point, half-covered with partially-uprooted willows and snags that had drifted down with the current. Its size was not discernible from the bank above, and it was invisible from the bridge. Its single open area would accommodate a ten-ton bison, just barely. Earlier in the day, Katara had stashed their packs among the willows. Now she walked out to the end of the sandbar, staring upstream at the far bank for her brother's figure. He was a strong swimmer and should have little difficulty with the few hundred yards of fairly modest current, even at night. The darkness on the far side was complete, although she could make out the outlines of scattered buildings against the growing brightness of the sky. Would she even be able to see him at all?

By now the glow of the burning factory was apparent, and occasional explosions continued. Katara could hear the shouts of soldiers, and her anxiety grew at the possibility that those shouts might signal Sokka's capture. Further upstream she knew the bridge would be crowded with citizens concerned at the potential spread of fire to the city. The whole area should be awash in chaos. Except that she had expected to see some sign of his return by now, everything still appeared to be going as planned.

Long minutes crept by but still no sight of Sokka. She clutched Appa's whistle spasmodically as her tension mounted. Perhaps he had been hurt, had misjudged his timing. Should she cross the river herself and investigate? Should she call Appa now? She pulled out their packs and dumped the instruments beside them, ready to load as soon as Appa appeared.

Just when she thought she could wait no longer, she saw a shadow separate itself from the others on the far bank. But the shadow seemed too bulky, and it moved too slowly. There was none of Sokka's lithe grace in the headlong tumble to the water's edge, and she was dismayed at the level of splashing she could discern.

She waded out into the river, waist-deep, feeling the current's pull. She could see the swimmer now, and saw he was not alone. Extending her power as far as she could, Katara began bending the flow around them, urging the water to support and move them across the reach instead of downstream and under. As they drew closer she recognized Sokka's head in the active swimmer, but whose was the slack form he trailed behind him, and why was he there?

She waded out still further, reaching out to assist her brother in dragging the limp body out of the river and onto the sandbar.