Water

The Valley of Spirits: Part 1

"Are you sure you won't join me, Nephew?" Uncle let out a contented sigh and settled deeper into the water. "Hot spring bathing is good for the spirit."

Zuko's jaw clenched as he pointedly turned his head away. "For the last time, Uncle, it isn't a hot spring if you have to heat the water yourself." In fact, he wasn't convinced that this was a spring at all. It was a hole in the ground that happened to be filled with water. And it smelled. Zuko tried to keep his expression neutral, or at least fixed in its customary scowl, but the smell was too much. He waved his hands in front of his face in a vain hope of clearing the air.

"Minerals," Uncle said.

"What are you talking about?"

"The smell." Uncle smiled and closed his eyes. "There are minerals in these waters. Excellent for the skin, but rather unpleasant to the nose."

Zuko gave up on trying to wave the stench away and pinched his nose shut. "I don't care how good it is for your skin. It smells worse than your feet."

Of course that earned a chuckle. "Perhaps it takes some getting used to."

"I'm not going to get used to it. If you bring that stench back to the ship, you'll be sleeping on the deck for the next week." Zuko crossed his arms.

"Ah, the grandeur of the night sky. I have often wished for more opportunities to sleep beneath the stars." Iroh laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back, closing his eyes.

With a grunt of frustration, Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Uncle, we need to leave. The Avatar is heading this way."

For once, he had a plan. He'd caught sight of the airbender's bison yesterday, and after a few hours of poring over his maps, he had a fair idea of where the Avatar was going. The bison was heading north, the Avatar seemed to stop at villages whenever possible, usually at midafternoon or early evening, and there was one and only one village on her path and within a reasonable distance. All he had to do was get there before the girl, wait for her little group to settle in for the night, then attack before they had a chance to fight back. It would be quick, it would be clean, and he would have both the Avatar and the airbender in hand.

Uncle made a contented sound and settled farther back against the side of the murky pit. "There is time, Prince Zuko. I have seen your charts. Senlin Village is not far." He yawned and rested his head back against a rock. "In the meantime, a bit of relaxation is in order. All these weeks at sea are a strain on my old bones."

Zuko rolled his eyes. Old bones. Uncle was old, there was no question about that, but he never complained about his old bones unless he was feeling particularly lazy. It had happened once when Zuko suggested that they trek cross-country through the abandoned territories surrounding the Southern Air Temple, and again when he insisted that they search the areas around the three other Air Temples. Uncle eventually agreed to all four journeys, but not without complaining loud enough to alert anything or anyone living in the next three valleys.

"You know I could leave you behind. Lieutenant Jee would be more than capable of backing me up on this mission."

Uncle didn't so much as stir.

"I could leave you here," Zuko repeated. "I could capture the Avatar and go home, and you would still be here. All alone. Forever."

One bronze eye opened a slit, and Uncle gave him an appraising look. Zuko fixed his expression into a deeper scowl and planted himself more firmly, arms crossed.

"Hmm." Uncle closed his eye again and let out a breath. Fresh curls of steam rose from the surface of the pool. "Just a few more minutes."

Zuko swore and let a stream of sparks out of his mouth. "Fine. But if you're not done by the time I get back from the ship, I'm leaving you behind."


"Whoa." Aang's eyes widened as they made their way down the street. "What do you think happened here?"

Katara followed his gaze. After the blackened, ruined expanse of the southern forest, the village had seemed like a quiet, respectable place—a respite from the destruction. Beyond the gates, it looked a bit like Haru's village, with a little less bustle in the streets, and decidedly fewer Fire Nation banners hanging from the buildings. That had to be a good sign.

Or it would have been a good sign if not for the fact that the first three houses on either side of the street were crumbling. And not peeling-paint-and-sagging-rafters crumbling, the sort that came naturally with age and neglect, but reduced-to-rubble crumbling. Entire walls lay flat on the ground, freshly painted but split into jagged sections. The splintered ends of the protruding wooden beams were still bright and unweathered—whatever had happened here must have been recent.

"Hmm." Sokka scratched at his chin. "Let's think about this really hard, Aang. The forest is burned down. There are komodo rhino tracks all over the place. And now the village is destroyed. I'll give you three guesses who did this."

Katara frowned. "Sokka—"

"I don't think this was the Fire Nation," Aang spoke up over her. "Look around. Nothing's burned here."

He was right. No matter where she looked, there wasn't a single scorch mark. No blackened corners or smoky smudges left behind.

"If it wasn't them, then what happened?" Katara kept her voice low. The ruined skeletons of the houses were strangely pristine, and after the forest, the undeniable evidence of the Fire Nation's hand in the devastation, the village was jarring. An uneasy sensation settled in the pit of her stomach.

"It was the spirits." Aang didn't so much as hesitate, and his voice was uncharacteristically grave. "I can feel them."

"You can—" Sokka's forehead scrunched and he let out a long breath. "He can feel spirits now," he mumbled, and let out a string of incoherent noises. He shot a look up at the sky then turned a frown on Aang. "Whatever. You've said weirder stuff." Grumbling, he stomped on ahead.

Unperturbed, Aang grabbed onto Katara's arm. "Can you feel that too?" He stood stock-still in the middle of the street, staring at nothing in particular.

She stopped beside him and tried to figure out what he was looking at. "I guess I feel something."

"That's it," Aang breathed, eyes wide. "Katara, we're the bridge to the spirit world! The spirits are restless and it's our job to fix it."

Katara frowned. There was a vague unease in the pit of her stomach and a prickle at the back of her neck, but neither seemed particularly spiritual to her. Being followed by the royal patrols in Omashu had given her the same feeling. She didn't doubt Aang. She couldn't. But whatever strange connection he felt to the spirits here, she didn't share it.


"Uncle! You'd better be ready. We don't have any more time to waste."

Zuko shoved his way through the last of the brambles and burst into the clearing. A flash of red draped over a branch caught his attention.

Zuko clapped a hand over his eyes. "I told you to be ready to leave, Uncle. Why aren't you dressed?"

Silence.

"Uncle?"

A sour knot of dread settled in the bottom of his stomach when the only response was more quiet. He cringed as he parted his fingers enough to peer between them. If he were lucky, Uncle might still be submerged, or the spaces between Zuko's fingers would be narrow enough that he didn't have to see—everything. Uncle was never shy about wandering from his cabin to the washroom and back in nothing but his underclothes, and that was more old-man nudity than Zuko ever wanted to see.

But the spring was empty. And as Zuko opened his hand wider, he saw that the clearing was too.

Zuko let his hand drop. Something felt wrong here. Very, very wrong.

"Uncle!" he called into the forest. "Uncle, where are you?"

Something rustled in the bushes behind him, and Zuko spun to face it, palms turned outward, poised to strike. The leaves trembled faster and louder, nearer and nearer. Zuko's jaw set and he let the heat start building in his hands.

A badgerfrog hopped from the undergrowth and let out a deep, rumbling croak. Zuko blinked. What? The heat died in his palms and his shoulders slackened while the bulbous black eyes stared up at him. No one was attacking. The bushes had gone quiet again, and the fat badgerfrog blinked one eye, then the other.

Zuko let out a slow breath. "You're lucky I have more important things to worry about." He jabbed a finger at the badgerfrog. "I almost roasted you."

It croaked as if in reply, then hopped, utterly unconcerned, between his legs and on across the clearing.

Zuko let his arms drop and relaxed out of his stance. Uncle was gone. But by some miracle—or some trick, more likely—no one else seemed to be around either. Uncle would call it a stroke of good fortune. Zuko knew better than that. Something bad had happened here. Something terrible.

The footprints caught his notice first. There were too many of them, too many pairs of feet, several of them too long, and almost all too narrow to belong to Uncle. There were scuff marks in the soil and broken branches in the undergrowth, footprints crossing over one another, all muddled by motion, and twin trails of smoothness where something had been dragged away.

"Uncle," he said through clenched teeth, head down as he followed the tracks across the clearing.

"General Iroh, the men were wondering—" Lieutenant Jee crashed through the bushes and stopped in his tracks, staring at the jagged stone spikes protruding from the sides of the basin-like spring. "Where's the General?"

Zuko scowled. "Not here."

The scuff marks were heading east—he trailed them through a grove of sharp-smelling evergreens to the edge of a wide, rutted track. Between the barefooted tracks, the occasional imprint of Uncle's pudgy sandaled feet was unmistakable. Earthbenders. It had to be earthbenders. The tracks overlapped so much that it was hard to tell how many of them, but the earthbenders had dragged Uncle this way, that much was obvious. And once they got the old man to the road—oh, no.

Ostrich horse tracks. By now, they would be miles away.

Zuko's fists clenched tighter. He should have known better than to leave Uncle here alone. The Earth Kingdom was a dangerous place, Zuko knew that. He should have stayed. He should have dragged Uncle out of the water personally, back to the ship, complaints be damned. But Zuko hadn't thought things through. Of course he hadn't. Though, to be fair, Uncle wasn't much better this time.

Lieutenant Jee marched up behind him. "What is this about, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko straightened and shot a glare over his shoulder. He didn't owe the lieutenant any explanation. "Bring me one of the komodo rhinos, Lieutenant. I'm going to bring my uncle back."

The lieutenant looked skeptical. With an almost inaudible groan, Jee gave a slight bow. Not as deep as it should have been, but Zuko didn't have time to address the disrespect at the moment. "Which one of the rhinos should I send, sir?"

Zuko's face heated slightly and he set his jaw. He really needed to stop leaving Uncle unsupervised. "Jasmine. Send me Jasmine."


"Do we have a plan?" Katara asked in a whisper. She could feel the villagers' expectant eyes on her back as they made their way from the town hall back toward the gates. They were counting on her and Aang—well, Aang, mostly—to vanquish whatever spirit was terrorizing their town.

Aang shrugged. "Talk to the spirit, I guess."

"The spirit that's been trying to destroy the town. The spirit that's been kidnapping people?" Sokka folded his arms. "You think talking is going to be enough to stop it?"

Katara scowled at him. "Problem, Sokka?"

He shrugged. "Nah, just clarifying. I don't know anything about this spirit-y business. Your guess is as good as mine."

Rolling her eyes, Katara poked his shoulder. "You know, you don't have to come with us. I'm sure Aang and I can figure this out."

"Yeah, Sokka." Aang cast a doubtful frown at Sokka's club and boomerang. "You're not exactly Mister Spirit World. I'm sure me and Katara can handle this one ourselves."

"Hey!" Sokka's voice squeaked midway through the word. "This thing crushes whole buildings. Excuse me for thinking a little muscle might be helpful."

"Very little," Katara mumbled. She ignored the grumpy look he shot at her. "So—" Katara nudged Aang. "Any idea what we have to tell an angry spirit?"

He shook his head. "We never had any angry spirits around the Air Temples. The Air Nomads were always at peace with the Spirit World."

Katara bit her lip. She'd always paid attention to Gran-Gran's stories about the spirits—more than Sokka had, at least—but the ballad of the first aurora didn't seem helpful. There were warnings too—the spirits demanded that hunters give proper thanks for their kill, they would seek revenge for improper use of sacred ground—but avoiding the spirits' wrath was different than ending it.

"I guess we can ask it nicely to stop," Aang said, looking hopeful.

"That's—one idea." They came to a stop at the gates. Turning her face toward the setting sun, Katara rested a hand on the waterskin at her hip. "That's definitely one idea."


Of the four komodo rhinos they kept on the ship, Jasmine was Zuko's least favorite. Not that he had any particular fondness for any of them. That would be ridiculous. Komodo rhinos were beasts of war, not pets. He'd learned that the hard way when he tried to pet Jasmine little more than a month into his banishment and earned a nasty bite on the forearm for his troubles. Jasmine was big and brutish, with a habit of ramming anything that moved. By the end of the first year, the men had to put corks on Jasmine's horns to reduce goring incidents.

Given the choice, Zuko would rather have taken Goji or Noodles—Ginger was Uncle's favorite, but he didn't usually obey Zuko. But rescuing Uncle would require speed. For all his other flaws, Jasmine was at least fast.

Zuko wrinkled his nose as he slung himself up into the saddle.

Lieutenant Jee noticed and raised an eyebrow. "If you would prefer, Prince Zuko, I can always send Jasmine back and have Taro bring Goji instead."

Zuko scowled down at the reins. "That won't be necessary, Lieutenant," he said through clenched teeth as Jasmine shifted beneath him. "Go back to the ship and wait for my orders."

Jee shrugged, and Zuko snapped the reins. It was fortunate that Jasmine was so fond of running. There was no telling how far the earthbenders were planning on taking Uncle. If he was fast enough—lucky enough—Zuko could catch up before they reached their destination. Before they sealed Uncle up behind walls, out of reach forever.

No. His grip tightened on the reins, and he leaned forward, urging Jasmine on. That wasn't going to happen. He would get to Uncle. He would fight to free him, and they would return to the ship unharmed. Luck be damned. Zuko was not going to lose Uncle like this.

He kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, tracing along with the ostrich-horse tracks. So long as the earthbenders didn't split up—and if they had even an inkling of who they had captured, they should know better than to reduce his guard—Zuko should be able to track them without trouble.

And the second I have Uncle back, he told himself, we go for the Avatar. He'd already lost too much time. It was rapidly closing in on evening, and he needed to time this ambush perfectly if he meant to succeed this time. Capturing the Avatar and the airbender while they slept wasn't the most honorable tactic he could think of, but after his last few disastrous attempts, he needed every possible advantage. But Uncle had to come first.

The ostrich horse tracks led to a shallow, fast-moving river and plunged into the water. Zuko squinted across to where the road continued, a little narrower, a little rockier than before. In the fading light, it was hard to tell for certain, but he thought he could see dark, glistening patches where the ostrich horses had emerged on the other side.

"Come on." He dug his heels into Jasmine's sides. "We're catching up with them."

A snort. Jasmine stepped into the water, then balked, scrabbling back from the bank, head lowered. Zuko snapped the reins to urge him on, but Jasmine only snorted again and twisted his great horned head to the side.

Zuko swore under his breath. Of course. This was just typical. Of course his fastest komodo rhino was afraid of water. Nothing else had ever gone right for him, why would it start now?

Grumbling, Zuko dismounted. He hesitated an instant before coming around to Jasmine's head—what if Jasmine took this as an invitation to gore him? But the beast merely snorted again, shaking his head, the whites of his eyes showing.

"You have to be kidding," Zuko said. "How are you afraid of water? You live on a boat."

Jasmine made a sound that was somewhere between a rumble and a hiss and snapped his head to the side when a few droplets splashed up from the river.

With a groan, Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he should have taken Ginger instead. Ginger was slower than Jasmine and disinclined to obey anyone aside from Uncle, but at least Ginger liked swimming. In fact, it was difficult to get Ginger out of the water at times. A bit like Uncle, in some ways.

On second thought, it was probably better that Ginger wasn't here. The last time they'd taken Ginger out, it took six of the crew to haul him out of the water. Dragging Jasmine to the other side of the river would be difficult enough.

Zuko's jaw and fists clenched. Why on earth had Father seen fit to saddle him with the Fire Nation's most useless—everything?

He let out a slow breath, trying to force those heavy, acrid feelings back down where they belonged. It wasn't fair of him to think that way. The war was still raging on. There was only so much that the Fire Nation could spare, and Father had given him the best of what the military could do without. Zuko knew that. It would be ungrateful to think otherwise.

"Let's go," he growled, tugging on the reins. Water seeped in through the seams of his boots as he stepped back into the river, and his scowl hardened. "Come on, Jasmine, you're surrounded by a lot more water than this every day. You can cross one measly little river."

Jasmine snorted again and braced himself, edging farther back onto the bank.

Damn it. He'd have to try a different tactic. Letting the reins drop, Zuko waded back to the bank and gathered up a few handfuls of tall, fragrant grass. Cautiously, he held them out as an offering.

"It's okay, Jasmine. Look at this yummy grass." Zuko thanked the spirits that no one else was around to hear him. He allowed his voice to soften. "You can have all of it if you just cross the river and help me get to Uncle."

Jasmine tossed his head, but his nostrils flared, and he stretched toward the handful of grass. Zuko inched back into the river a step at a time, keeping the grass just out of the komodo rhino's reach until his great clawed foot plunged into the water again.

Jasmine grunted and tried to back away again, but Zuko held the grass a little closer, allowing the beast a small mouthful. "That's it," Zuko said when Jasmine became too intent on chewing to notice the water lapping around his ankles. "I don't like you, and I know you don't like me, but this is some good grass, isn't it?" Jasmine stretched for another mouthful, and Zuko took another step back. "Get another foot in the water and you can have another bite." He waved the grass in what he hoped was a tantalizing manner and felt a small thrill of satisfaction when Jasmine obeyed.

Luring Jasmine into the water was a slow process, but offering another clump of grass for every step forward seemed to curb the worst of the beast's temper, and by the time that Zuko ran out of grass, they were more than halfway across. Grabbing hold of the reins again, he pulled—Jasmine rumbled and snorted but didn't resist. The riverbank was near enough now that even a dumb, mindless animal like Jasmine had to realize that it was quicker to continue than it was to turn back.

Zuko's feet sloshed soggily in his boots when he finally emerged on dry ground again, and he frowned back at Jasmine. "You realize you made that a lot harder than it needed to be, don't you?"

Jasmine snorted and turned to a clump of grass growing by the edge of the road.

Suppressing a groan, Zuko slid his boots off and dumped the water out. They were still shopping wet when he pulled them back on, but there was no time to steam them dry. Uncle had to be close. In the dim evening light, the ostrich horse tracks were still distinguishable but fading fast.

"Let's go," he snapped, swinging himself up into the saddle, trying to ignore the squelching noise his feet made when they settled into the stirrups. "We're nearly there."


"Ahhhh!" Sokka ran toward Hei Bai's massive hind leg, club raised over his head.

"Sokka, be care—" Katara shouted as Hei Bai flicked him away like it was nothing. "—ful." Her brother landed in a heap in the middle of the street. She winced. That must have hurt.

She darted forward and flung a sharpened disk of water at the spirit. The water made impact, but the spirit creature didn't so much as flinch. Rather than slicing into the smooth black flesh or at least splashing back so she could gather up the fallen droplets and try again, the water just sort of absorbed into the creature.

"Hey, Hei Bai! Please stop crushing things!" Aang hovered by its head on a sphere of air. "My friends and I are here to help, if you would just listen—"

The spirit let out a puff of air, and Aang's sphere dissipated, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Katara grit her teeth. Hei Bai was bearing down on the next house in the row, and she had lost more than half of her water in her first failed attempts at bending at it. Drawing the rest of the water out of her waterskin, she formed it into a ball as she ran into the spirit's path. Aang's just-ask-it-nicely tactic clearly wasn't working, and neither was attacking outright. Maybe she could slow it down instead.

Breathing hard, she managed to get ahead of the spirit, and with a shout of effort, she spread the water into a mostly-even glaze on the ground and froze it just before the spirit's foot landed. Hei Bai slipped, and Katara dodged to the side as its massive shoulder came crashing down.

She was too close. It was too big and too heavy and falling too fast, directly toward her. In her panic, she tripped and let out a scream.

Katara threw her arms over her head, bracing for the inevitable impact. She heard the thump as Hei Bai landed. But she felt nothing.

She opened her eyes to see the sleek, snarling head slowly rising from the ground, and she scrambled backward, pushing herself to her feet. Not crushed, then. A nagging sensation of doubt pricked at the back of her neck, but there was no time to worry about that now.

"Leave these people alone!" she shouted, trying to draw the water back to herself. She should have borrowed Sokka's machete or a fishing spear—weapons didn't seem to have much effect, but she was practically unarmed now. She would feel better if she had more than a few drops of water at her disposal.

Hei Bai roared and swiped at her, but before the paw could make contact, Sokka charged in from the side and pushed her out of the way.

"Sokka!" She ran back in and snatched his hand, but not before Hei Bai's paw closed around him. "Let him go!" she cried, pulling as hard as she could.

"Ahhhhhh!" Sokka whacked at the beast's paw with his free arm. "Yeah, you big brute, let me go!" His club thumped uselessly against the smooth black arm, and he turned back to Katara. "Do something, Katara!"

She braced her feet against a rut in the ground and pulled harder. "I'm trying!"

"Ow! I didn't ask you to pull my arm off. Do something—Avatar-y."

She scowled and yanked his hand again as Aang came racing around the spirit creature. "Aang! Come help me!"

But apparently the yelling was too much for the spirit—before Aang could reach them, Hei Bai swiped at Katara with its other paw, claws bared. There was no time to duck or dodge out of the way. The razor-sharp edges caught the light for an instant before she squeezed her eyes shut.

The impact never came. There was a faint rush of air that might have passed through the very core of her bones, and she opened her eyes to see Hei Bai's eyes looming terrifyingly close. It let out a horrible, piercing scream that made her ears ring and clawed at her again. This time, she watched in horrified fascination as the claws passed straight through her middle without leaving a mark.

Hei Bai ducked down to her level and unleashed a deep, bone-rattling growl inches from her face. In her surprise, her grip loosened on Sokka's hand, and before she had time to realize her mistake, the spirit tightened its grasp on Sokka and ran.


The fight didn't last long. Zuko didn't expect it to. The company of earthbenders fought well enough, but he had the advantage of surprise coupled with the speed and agility of his element. Not to mention an extremely aggressive komodo seemingly bent on ramming everything that wasn't Zuko.

Uncle beamed up at him when the last earthbender fell. "Your form is much improved today, Prince Zuko."

Perhaps that was meant to be a compliment, but Zuko only heard the echoes of all Uncle's disapproving comments during his training over the past few years. "You're lucky I decided to come after you. How did you let them sneak up on you? Aren't you supposed to be the Fire Nation's greatest general? Why did you let a bunch of incompetent earthbenders get close enough to capture you in the first place?" Something hot and unpleasant twisted in his stomach. The boulder meant to crush Uncle's hands still lay intact at the far side of the gully. He'd almost been too late. Another minute wasted trying to ford the river with Jasmine would have been disastrous.

Yawning, Uncle stretched his arms over his head and then scratched his bare, round belly. "Travel is tiring, Nephew. I may have taken a brief nap. Hot springs are so relaxing."

Shaking his head in disgust, Zuko drew a coil of rope from Jasmine's saddle and set to work tying up the earthbenders. "Put some clothes on, would you?" He yanked the knots as tight as he could, half-hoping that the ropes would cut into the soldiers' wrists. Zuko's heart was still racing, his mind still turning over the thoughts of everything that could have gone wrong. Had he been a moment later—his eyes drifted toward the boulder again and he pulled even harder on the ropes.

"About that. I don't suppose you brought my clothes with you?"

Zuko paused in his work, thinking back. Of course, he'd brought—no, Lieutenant Jee had gathered up Uncle's clothes. Damn it. "No," he snapped, his face heating. "Lieutenant Jee took them back to the ship. I had more important things to worry about." One of the earthbenders stirred, and he wrenched the last knot tight. It wouldn't be enough to actually hurt the man, but he hoped that it was uncomfortable. After what they'd nearly done to Uncle, a little discomfort was the least he could do.

"Very well." Uncle still sounded maddeningly cheerful. "I'll make do." Whistling, he padded across to the largest of the earthbenders and stooped closer to the man's face. "Excuse the inconvenience, sir, but I will have to borrow your clothes."

Zuko smacked himself in the forehead and turned away. The earthbender made plenty of loud, undignified complaints, but from the sound of it, there wasn't much he could do to fight back. Good. Much as Zuko wanted to keep Uncle safe, he had no desire to watch the old man fight in nothing but a loincloth. Not again. Not ever again.

"Are you almost through?" he asked when the protests died down to vague grumbles and Uncle took to humming again.

"I believe so."

Zuko turned back. The earthbender still wore his armor, though his legs were bare, and it looked like Uncle had somehow snaked the man's undershirt from beneath his breastplate. The greenish brown trousers pooled around Uncle's ankles, and the front of the shirt hung open, unable to cover the old man's ample stomach. Uncle made an attempt at fastening the shirt and gave a sheepish smile when he failed.

"You look ridiculous," Zuko said flatly.

Uncle shrugged, patting his protruding stomach. "Never let it be said that your old Uncle Iroh has an insufficient sea of chi. Now—" He came forward and clapped Zuko on the shoulder, the chains on his wrists still rattling. "Where are we off to next?"

Zuko frowned. The sky had turned to a grayish indigo color, and the few stars he could see were faint at best. He knew that the Avatar had been headed north at last sighting, and Zuko had ridden Jasmine due east—or at least he thought he had. He'd lost track in his hurry to catch up with Uncle's captors. That meant that they should head northwest—but exactly how far north and how far west he wasn't entirely sure. And even if he knew where he was in relation to the Avatar, he couldn't see the patterns in the stars clearly enough to know for certain which direction was which.

"Ah!" Uncle jabbed a finger up in the air. "Perhaps we might visit an old acquaintance of mine! We rarely travel this far inland, and a cup of tea from Madame Nuwa is not to be missed!"

"No." Zuko grabbed his uncle's shoulders and propelled him back toward Jasmine. "It's late, we've wasted too much time already, and you look like you belong in a troupe of clowns. We are not going to visit a tea shop."

Uncle looked back over his shoulder. "It is not a teashop, Prince Zuko. Madame Nuwa is a florist. It is merely her expertise with flowers that allows her to brew such delectable teas." Eyes twinkling, he added, "And a good game of Pai Sho with a lovely and wise woman is one of life's greatest pleasures."

Scowling, Zuko shoved Uncle the last few steps toward Jasmine. "For the last time, I said no. We're going back to the ship, and then we're going to capture the Avatar. That's all."

Uncle pouted as he swung up into the saddle behind Zuko. "Ah, my dear nephew. Someday I really must teach you the value of relaxation. Sometimes a straight line is not the shortest path to your goals."

Suppressing a groan, Zuko snapped the reins and Jasmine sprang into motion. It was good to have Uncle back, it really was. That didn't make his ramblings any more helpful or any less irritating.


Katara doubled over, hands on her knees, breathing hard. She couldn't run anymore. She'd left the village far behind, and the sky was fading to blackness overhead.

Hands shaking, she wiped at her eyes. When the spirit ran off with Sokka, Aang had taken off in pursuit on his glider. Katara ran after them, but her legs could only carry her so fast. By the time she reached the village gates, Hei Bai was cresting the first rise in the road, Aang not far behind. She kept running.

When she lost sight of them, she told herself that the spirit creature must have disappeared over the next rise in the road. And when she reached that spot to find that it was as level as ever, she decided that it must have been the next curve in the road instead. She couldn't stop. Hei Bai had her brother.

But eventually the enormous footprints faded and stopped, and after cresting a few more rises in the road with no sign of the boys or the spirit, Katara couldn't see the use in continuing.

Fighting to catch her breath, she straightened, looking around. The moon was just beginning to rise, and its light cast a faint silvery glow over the forested path, but there was nothing to see. It was silent, too. None of Aang's chattering, none of Sokka's shouting and cursing, none of the spirit's unearthly shrieks. It was still. And she was alone.

A tear ran down her cheek. It wasn't supposed to go like this. She and Aang were supposed to be able to stop the spirit, Sokka was still supposed to be with her, but instead—instead, everything was wrong. She was miles from the village by now, and the boys were still missing. Even Appa and Momo were still back at the village. That left her. And no one else.

If you ever get lost, she heard Gran-Gran's voice tell her, stay where you are. We will find you. Every time, little one. We will always come find you.

She swallowed back the lump in her throat. That didn't do her any good here. She was in the middle of the road in the middle of a forest in the middle of the Earth Kingdom, half a world from home. No one would look for her here. The owlcats and viperbats would find her first. Besides, she wasn't the one who was lost. She knew her way back to Senlin Village. Maybe that was the best place to start.

Her shoulders were slumping and her feet dragging by the time the lights of the village came back in sight. A cluster of village elders waited at the gates, a lantern held high between them.

"You're back!" A small, sharp-eyed old woman waved both arms over her head and bustled forward to meet her. "We were all beginning to worry."

Katara couldn't force herself to smile. "I'm back." Her voice sounded hollow, even to her, and her eyes burned.

"Oh, my dear." The old woman tucked a lock of Katara's hair back. "Where have the others gone?"

An old man joined them and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. "The Avatar?" he prompted. "Where is the Avatar?"

A hard, bitter part of her wanted to laugh. I'm right here. The Avatar hasn't gone anywhere. But a fresh stream of tears broke loose instead. "It's just me. Hei Bai—it got my brother, and Aang—Aang followed, and I don't know what—" She swiped the back of her hand across her face. The blanket's warmth was nice, but it engulfed her, reminding her how small, how alone she was here. "I don't know what happened to them."

There was a heavy sigh from nearer to the gates. "Then that's the end. With the Avatar gone—"

The little old woman shot a look back toward the gates and the pair of knobby hands on Katara's shoulders tightened. She heard the rest of the sentence anyway. With the Avatar gone, nothing can save us. With the Avatar gone, Hei Bai will come back for the rest of us. Just like it would have had the Avatar never come.

"Enough, you old prune." The old woman pursed her lips. The fact that the man she was speaking to could hardly be half her age didn't seem to bother her. "The poor girl has had enough sorrow for one night without your dramatics."

The village leader shook his head and lowered the lantern. "What good does it do to lie? The spirits have turned against us. There is nothing we can do without the Avatar." He gave Katara a slightly softer look. "We appreciate your help. But I'm afraid that there's nothing more we can do. If you do not wish to meet the same fate as your friends, I can only advise that you leave the Senlin Valley in the morning. There is no reason why the spirits should claim another child."

As the man spoke, Katara tensed. She and Sokka were meant to look after one another. That was how this worked. She couldn't leave him behind. No matter what.

"No! They're still out there somewhere, I know it. I don't care what you say. I don't care what anyonesays, I'm not leaving here without them."

The village leader gave her a look of sorrow, and she glared in response, hot tears still streaming from her eyes. This was good. These were angry tears now. Angry tears weren't helpless tears.

The old woman came to stand beside her. "It's been a long night, dear. Hei Bai will not trouble us again until tomorrow." She patted Katara's shoulder. "Come. Things will be clearer in the morning."


Author's Note:

I'm back! Now let's all agree not to look at the date I last updated this fic, okay? Okay.

I keep asking myself,What on earth have you been DOING with yourself that you let this story sit for so long?But if I'm being honest... actually, I've done a lot. I went from the bottom of the heap at work to one of the main trainers for my department, a member of a software committee, and one of four people with access to higher-level tasks. I went from living in a slightly crappy apartment with a loud, extroverted roommate, fully expecting to live there for another 2–3 years... to living alone in a house that I own. I became an aunt to an adorable nephew (who I sadly haven't been able to meet yet). And I wrote, edited, and posted every other fic on my profile

self promo moment: if you haven't read any of my other stuff, I'd love it if you checked them out! I'm so proud of a lot of those stories!

Oh, and I finished four fairly long chapters for this fic. Weekly updates, here I come!

The next three chapters are a lot of fun, so I hope you stick around for them, and I'll keep working to

hopefully

extend the weekly updates a little farther. In the meantime, reviews are always appreciated!