Our journey continues north. Iroh and Zuko leave me alone in bed for the majority of three days. I do not share my hectic nightmare, nor the disappointment I felt from my dead friends. When I do come to after the coldness overtook me, a frog croaks from under the bed, lonely and wishing to escape. Next time we dock, I plan to set him back in a wooded area, hoping he'll hop toward some semblance of hope.
Zuko has a faint bruise around one eye, and he won't look directly at me, though he still requests training once I am back on my feet. We've been docked for less than a day in some port, and the frog is back in the wild, though sneaking away from Zuko took some effort on my part.
I insist on the necessary portion of mediation of airbending, though Zuko throws that back in my face. Zuko, Iroh, and I are seated in Zuko's room, drinking tea. The discussion has looped back around to meditation. "The importance of meditation is to allow yourself to wander. To become free like air. It also helps with breathing, because breath control is important as well."
"I already know breath control," Zuko says.
Iroh nods. "Power in firebending comes from the breath. It becomes energy within the body, so that the energy may become fire. I agree with Zia, meditation is important. When it comes to your meditation practices, I find that you are often troubled."
"No, you can't meditate wrong, Iroh," I say. "There's no chance of it being wrong, because it is supposed to be simple. The goal is to let the mind wander, like air. It is important to not let your thoughts get too attached to one thing, but otherwise, the focus is on breathing and on being one with your breath."
I take a drink from my tea, letting the warmness overwhelm me for a moment. The coldness from being sick is no longer there, but I still feel the disappointment from my dead peers lingering around me, the eyes of the masked man that gave me the frog holding me in deep fear when I do not let the fear pass me by.
Iroh sips his tea loudly, almost mocking Zuko's inability to relax. "See, Prince Zuko. A moment of quiet is good for your mental well-being."
As soon as Zuko lifts the cup to his lips, a violent motion rocks the whole ship, jostling the tea and covering Zuko in herbal smells. I try to stifle a laugh, but, sometimes, simple gags really get me. He groans and stands up, wiping the warm tea away from his hair and face.
Iroh and I shrug at each other and follow him. There is a ruckus up on the main deck. A shirshu with a rough looking lady riding them is running around the deck. The animal is massive, with a tongue that shoots out at seemingly random spots, tasting the air or looking for something. Upon closer inspection, they have no eyes.
The lady riding the animal says, "Get back. We're after a stowaway." Her hair is long, put back in a topknot. She has a tattoo on one shoulder, and her presence fills the whole deck.
Zuko steps forward. "There are no stowaways on my ship."
In direct defiance of Zuko's statement, the shirshu rips a chunk of the deck off, the metal coming away like paper. The animal tosses it above us, clattering it against the door. Zuko is angry, I can almost see the flames dancing within him, looking for a way out. The shirshu sticks their head into the gap of the ship, obviously looking for something we cannot see.
A man dressed in green clambers out of the hole, running for his life. The tongue of the shirshu lashes out, catching the man on the back. I take a step forward. He's dead. He's dead. Iroh grabs my arm, holding me back.
"He's paralyzed," Zuko says, and relief crashes through me.
"Only temporarily," the lady says. "The toxins will wear off in about a hour, but, by then, he'll be in jail and I'll have my money." She puts the man on her shoulder like a sack of rice despite her lean figure. She is beautiful in a terrifying sort of way. Iroh is in awe.
"But how did you find him on my ship?"
"My shirshu can smell a rat a continent away."
"Well, I'm impressed," Iroh states. I jostle him in the side, seeing his eyes follow the woman and not the animal. She whips the animal, jumping off the ship and away. Iroh leans over the edge of the ship, saying, "Very impressed."
Zuko's eyes are more for the animal than for the woman astride them. "I have an idea."
"You don't have anything to follow the scent of," I state, speaking without thinking. Knowing Zuko's idea before he gives it breath.
"I do."
"What?"
"None of your business. You're not leaving the ship this time."
"But you said-"
"I know what I said. There are exceptions to agreements. And you. Are. Not. Leaving. The. Ship." He emphasizes each word with a finger against my chest. Anger grows in my chest again, and I open my mouth to speak. However, before I can, the blue masked man flashes before my eyes. I stumble, catching myself on the railing behind me.
"Zia," Iroh starts, moving toward me.
Zuko has already turned his back on me. I want to scream at him. I want to leave the ship. I want to see Aang. I want to -
"Take her to her room. Do not leave her unattended until Uncle Iroh and I return," Zuko says, shouting commands around us. I feel degraded. All the progress we made. All that I learned and understood. Thrown away to the wind with some shirshu.
They are gone for less than a day. They set out at night in search of the shirshu woman and return the next day, shirshu-less and Avatar-less, right before dinner is served. I've spent the better part of my solitude sparing with some of the soldiers. Inadvertently, I have taught not only Zuko some techniques, but also the people that follow him.
Jee smiles at me, despite the new rule that hangs over me. "Do not leave her unattended until Uncle Iroh and I return." I want to spit. To fight. To rally against Zuko. But I am held in check by a quiet voice inside me. The voice that said she wanted to help him. That she would help Zuko.
I can't help him here. Trapped in a ship. Trapped in my own mind.
What can I do? What can I do to stop Zuko's slow decline into . . . into what? His father? No, never. Not after what his father did to him. But, why, then, does he want Aang? What is his end goal? To capture Aang, with the dim hope of normalcy guiding him? If his own father burned him, what hope sits ahead of him?
And, if he does catch Aang, what does that mean for me?
Shortly after dinner, Zuko approaches me meditating on deck. I am milling over these questions, these concerns for the future, when he sits quietly next to me. For a long time, neither of us speak. My breath is even, and I am lulled into a sense of security, of comfort, with Zuko.
"Your training came in handy," he says. Zuko sits straight, like the prince he is. My eyes cut over to him, but do not linger.
"Not enough, though?"
He shakes his head. "No, not yet enough."
"I'm sorry. I will work harder with you."
The breeze shifts, and I get a big whiff of perfume, thick and mingling with too many smells. I recoil at the sudden smell. "What is that smell?" I ask.
"We fought at an abbey that makes perfumes. We got hit with some. I thought I washed it all out." Zuko says, not meeting my eyes. "Uncle has some for you."
"Why are you out here?"
"When you were sick, you seemed pretty scared. Are you okay?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"You tried to punch me."
"No, I tried to punch a blue spirit. Scary looking face. Shoved something in my mouth."
Zuko stays quiet, until, "We're headed north. We should have a heavier cloak for you; it will get cold. If not, at our next port, we'll get you a better one."
"What's in the north?"
He shrugs. "That is the general pattern that the Avatar is headed toward. We believe that he is going to the Northern Water Tribe to master waterbending."
"And then earthbending, and then firebending, eventually."
"Exactly. I hope to either intercept him before he makes landfall, or capture him at the North Pole."
"It's pretty there."
"Where?"
"The North Pole. I went a long time ago. Very pristine."
"When did you go to the North Pole?" Zuko is critical, skeptical of my traveling.
"Well, it does go to show that nomads travel, doesn't it? I traveled a lot. I loved it."
Zuko stands, stretches, looks down at me. Our eyes connect. "It's good then, that you're still traveling. Keeping to your roots." He looks away, awkward again, as if he said something he shouldn't have.
"Yeah, my roots of selling things to people, paintings I've done, pies, good fortunes." I scuff. "We used to bring good fortune to people. Now it just seems like there's barely enough for me, let alone other people." I glance back up at him, and he seems taken aback at my apathy. I frown. "Go to bed, Prince Zuko. But take another bath. You're stinky."
"Whatever, Zia. Don't stay out here too long. Don't want to catch a cold again."