Note: Some technical difficulties with this chapter...it was almost not meant to be. Thanks to ardy for being patient and to you readers for being fantastic!


Aang the Brave

Chapter Nine

As they flew inland over Port Fudo, Appa didn't need to be guided because he followed the other bison instinctively. Aang and Jinju were entertained by their two new saddlemates, Kripa, the boy who had left Aang to carry the baby and Kripi, the girl who had rescued him, and who now wouldn't stop smiling at him and giggling. She was weird, Aang decided. Yuka and Li had promptly abandoned them to ride with the older kids.

"We're twins!" Kripa and Kripi declared in unison. It was easy to see the resemblance; they shared the same dark brown hair and gray eyes, and when they smiled Aang saw that they were both missing a front tooth. They talked nonstop, providing all the details that their mother had failed to mention, and plenty that he had no interest in learning.

"You're going to the tournament, aren't you?" Kripa asked. He didn't wait for an answer. "Lucky! We have to go to Haijan Valley to bury Grandma."

"I'm sorry," Aang said, although Kripa sounded more upset about missing the tournament than the death of his grandmother.

"She's not dead yet, you dolt," Kripi scolded. She turned to Aang and Jinju and said seriously, "She's very, very ill. She's on her deathbed, but Mom says she's lived a very fulfilling life, and she's tired from all the work she's done, so now she gets to rest in the spirit world." She nodded sagely, then added, "She's lived a hundred and twelve years. That's a lot of work."

"Wow," Aang breathed, truly impressed.

"Anyway," Kripa said loudly, cross with is sister for stealing the Airbender's attention, "she'll probably be dead by the time we get to the valley. She's there with Grandpa and Uncle Runako and Auntie Jaya and my cousin Nami," he bagan counting on his fingers, "and my cousin Gamba and my cousin Devi and my cousin Nan and my cousin Tai La and my cousin-"

"And a lot of cousins—they get it!" Kripi interupted.

"And right when we were about to leave for the Northern Air Temple, my cousin Gul comes and tells us that Grandma's about to drop dead. So Dad left already, and now Gul's taking us back." Kripa sighed dramatically. "It's not fair. I wish I could've gone with Dad. At least I wouldn't be stuck with you," he spat, shooting a glare at his twin.

Kripi frowned at her brother. "First of all, Grandma's not going to 'drop dead,' she's going to 'pass away.' Secondly, Dad is in mourning. The last thing he needs is to be pestered by an annoying little boy." Aang tried not to laugh at their squabbling. Sometimes he argued with his friends at the Air Temple, but then he could always hide away in his room or find an empty garden or hallway until he cooled off. But what if he were trapped with them all the time? He'd lose his mind; it was bad enough being stuck with Jinju, Li and Yuka, and that was only for a few weeks. He couldn't imagine forever.

"Oh, shut up. Can you believe it?" Kripa turned to Aang and Jinju while his sister scoffed. "That bitch coulda keeled over any time and she had to choose now!"

Eyes popping, Kripi gasped. "I'm telling Mom!" she cried, but it sounded more like an instinctive reaction than a threat. "Don't talk like that. Grandma's ghost is gonna haunt you."

Kripa waved his sister's comment aside. "That old bat is gonna haunt me anyway. She hates me—she hates everyone!" Again he turned to the two Airbenders, his face serious. "You have to take me with you."

"No way! Your mom would kill us." Aang had been in trouble with plenty of his friends' mothers, but he had a feeling he really didn't want to be on Tatapi's bad side.

"No, she won't even notice. I have it all planned out. All you have to do is drop me off here, and then when you land and Mom asks where I am say I fell off and you'll go and find me. Then you can come back and we can go the tournament. She'll never have to know!" Aang and Jinju shared a look that said, He's joking, right?

Kripi giggled like a little chirping bird. "That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard in my life! You're so dumb!"

"You're dumb!" Kripa snarled, and punched his sister in the arm.

"Ow! I'm telling! Mo-oo-m!" she shrieked, leaning over the saddle. "Kripa's hitting me!"

Tatapi's voice drifted on the wind from a bison ahead of and a little below them. "Stop fighting!" Kripi took this to mean that she had won, and she smirked at her brother.

Below them Port Fudo transformed from a bustling city to a town of wide lanes and unhurried people who waved lazily as they flew overhead. Soon they were flying over an open plain. Four immense shadows caressed the rippling grasses which grew into shrubs and merged into a band of trees speckled with golden bloom. Aang could see yellow-tinted mountains in the distance.

On the other side of the trees there was another clearing with a pond close to the treeline. Appa circled down, landed gracefully among the reeds, and began to lap up water with fervent gulps. Tatapi immediately set the men (not "boys!") to work pulling packs off saddles and saddles off bison while she and her daughters erected a makeshift kitchen in the shade. Aang found it interesting to watch them remove the giant saddle, scampering up the bison's tail and neck, pushing it slowly off his back, carefully lowering it into waiting hands on the ground. It took a whole team, and by the time they had one saddle off the Airbenders were already through with the other three.

Gul grabbed the two staffs from his mischievous cousins who were preparing for a sword fight. "These aren't to play with," he said, then held them close to his face, smiling as he appreciated the detailed carving. He opened Yuka's glider. "Gorgeous...perfect!" he muttered. "This is authentic. This is the work of masters. I took my glider with me when I left, but I outgrew it. I was a shrimp when I was sixteen." He held a hand at chest level and grinned at Aang. "Don't worry, you'll be as big as me someday. Is this one yours?" he asked, holding out the smaller staff.

"No, I lost mine," Aang answered. "In the ocean. I was trying to find a boat." Either Gul had heard the story already or he wasn't listening, because he didn't ask Aang to elaborate. Instead he handed the staff to Jinju.

"What do you say—up for a quick race? Do you mind?" He raised his eyebrows at Yuka.

"Knock yourself out. Won't be much of a race, though."

Jinju wasn't offended. Yuka had unintentionally provided him with a way out of an embarrassing situation. "Yeah, I don't really race—but Aang does!" He shoved the staff into Aang's hands as if it was diseased.

"Is that so?" Gul twisted his mustache thoughtfully. "So, Master Aang, you think you can outfly me?"

He grinned. "Well, let's just say," here he twirled the staff in quick circles and snapped the glider open, evoking cheers from the small audience, and positioned the glider behind his back, "I'm the fastest flier I know."

"Oh, a challenge," the man laughed with a cocky smile. "We'll see about that. To the hills," he said, pointing. Far across the clearing the land began a gentle incline.

The group of boys gathered around them, chattering loudly and making bets. Aang was pleased to hear Yuka say, "If I had any money I'd put it on the kid," and Jinju proclaim, "Aang's faster than anyone at the temple. Probably the world!"

Finally they stood back. "Ready...Set...Go!" someone yelled. Gul rocketed off, leaving a whirlwind of dust and yowling cousins in his wake. Aang didn't move; he leaned back on his glider serenely.

"What are you doing?" Kripa screamed, pushing Aang forward. "Move! Are you crazy? I've got five copper pieces on you!"

"Let him have a head start. It's the least I can do," Aang drawled, reveling in their distress, happy to entertain. He wasn't worried; Gul's flying was lively but unsteady from years without practice. He yawned, feigning disinterest, and the boys danced in agitation. Aang waited until Gul was halfway across the field, a tiny orange speck before announcing, "That should be fair. Move back." They parted for him, and Aang hurled the glider through the aisle they made, ran, leaped and caught it in midair without missing a beat. His audience ate it up.

Within seconds their cheers were far behind him. He screamed across the field, the grass one long brown blur beneath him. The wind rushing against his face and playing over the fabric of his clothes was such a relief from the heat. He dived within an inch of the tallest grasses, then shot into the air, twirling. He couldn't be tied down, couldn't be caught, could barely be seen. That last fateful excursion over the ocean didn't count—this was what flying was really about.

Yuka's glider, a little too small for Gul, made the man look even bigger, but he sped through the air with birdlike grace. Aang gained on him steadily, and when he was close enough to reach out and and touch his feet he flipped upside down, facing the sky, and ducked underneath Gul. He laughed at Gul's shocked expression. "See you at the finish line," he taunted, darting off again.

Aang curbed his speed as he approached the hills, so that he would only beat Gul by a little bit. He landed beside a towering tree and sat in the shade of its gnarled branches. Yellow petals littered the ground around him. He leaned back, tapping a rhythm against the bark with Jinju's staff.

Aang smiled sweetly as Gul landed with a cry of defeat, snapping the glider closed. He hobbled over, using the staff as a cane, and plopped down beside Aang. "Well done, Master Aang. Very well done." He held a hand out sideways and they shook. "That was even more fun than I remember. Although it hurt a lot more than I remember, too." Wincing, he massaged his shoulders. "Mind giving this old man a few minutes to rest before we head back?"

"No problem," Aang answered. "How old are you anyway?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Wow, you are old!"

Gul laughed loudly. "Thanks a lot." They sat in silence for a while, watching a flock of birds fly overhead, swaying and turning like one giant animal. Warm air enveloped them. Suddenly tired, Aang rested his head against the tree and closed his eyes.

He felt something tickling his hand and looked down. A spindly legged spider crawled over his fingers and he flicked it off with a small shake. It toppled over in the grass before righting itself and glaring at him. "Watch it, kid!" it chided, and Aang gasped in surprise, jerking himself out of a dream.

He blinked sleepily and rubbed his eyes. Gul, too, had fallen asleep, and was snoring heavily beside him, mustache fluttering with each exhale. Aang looked around. The sun was a little lower in the sky, the shadows a little longer. It must have been about an hour. Refreshed, Aang floated to his feet and nudged Gul with the staff. "Wake up! We slept all day and now it's tomorrow afternoon!"

Gul stretched his arms over his head, groaning. "You're kidding me. I can't believe they didn't come get us. I bet the food's cold!"

--

The food was cold, but Tatapi reheated their portions, somehow managing to do this while feeding Lilia, gathering dirty dishes, yelling at her children, and complaining about the heat at the same time. Aang inhaled the aroma of rice and cabbage from the Earth Kingdom and savory spices from Port Fudo. "You taste it first," Gul whispered loudly, "and tell me if it's any good. You can never be too careful with Auntie's cooking."

"Oh, hush. You're worse than them," the woman scolded, waving toward the kids with a dirty spoon. Most of them were gathered around a furious game of marbles. Jinju had started shooting, slowly rebuilding his collection and amazing everybody with his quiet expertise; that's why no one had come to retrieve Aang and Gul. "I can't wait until you have some babies," Tatapi said to Gul as she handed him a dish. "And I hope they're all as bad as you."

While they ate in the shade, Gul showed Aang a map of the Fire Nation. Li came over, too, and sat on Gul's other side. The three Airbenders bent over the map, planning their new course. The best course, according to Gul, was through Sukutai mountains. They'd follow the Meiba River to its junction with the Long River, and follow that great watercourse to the Northern Sea. "But it's too late to leave now," said Gul, although it was still the middle of the afternoon. "You'll stay with us tonight, and follow us to the mountains tomorrow morning." That was that, and Aang was only mildly surprised that he had no desire to protest.

A few minutes later Yuka joined them, carrying Lila; apparently Tatapi had coerced him into burping the baby for her. He looked strange to Aang, holding the child on his shoulder, and Aang's first thought was that if he had a baby he sure wouldn't let Yuka hold it. But Yuka sat down and leaned over Gul's map, mindlessly patting Lila's back with his palm as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. He must have spent plenty of time in the nursery at the Air Temple, Aang guessed. Aang always liked helping out with the small children, as long as he didn't have to change any dirty diapers.

"Li, I finally found someone who you can have a conversation with," Yuka offered a saccharine smile as he lifted the baby. "You want to hold her?"

"You're too thoughtful," Li droned. "Thanks, but no."

"Can I hold her?" Aang asked around a mouthful of cabbage.

"No." Lila gurgled, grabbing at Yuka's face. "Hey, pick your own nose."

"Why not?" Aang persisted. "You were going to let Li."

"Because I'm not done yet." He set her on his other shoulder and resumed a rhythmic beat.

Before Aang had a chance to protest at the unfairness, Kripi bounded over brandishing a chain of yellow flowers. She sat next to Aang—a little too close—and draped the necklace over him. "I made this for you, Aang. I hope you like it."

"Thanks," Aang said. The necklace really was very nice, and it must have taken her a long time to make. Plus, it smelled good; an added bonus since Aang was sure he didn't. He smiled at Kripi appreciatively, and she smiled back. And smiled. And smiled. Aang looked away and when he sneaked a peek out of the corner of his eye, she was still grinning. "You're really creeping me out," Aang wanted to say, but instead mumbled, "Oh, look. It matches my outfit..."

"I know!" Kripi squealed. "Well, don't you have a gift for me?" So that's what she after. He didn't think that was very nice—giving someone a gift just so you could get one in return.

"Yes, I do," Aang lied. "But I'm not done making it yet!" She bought it, and Aang was impressed at how quickly and easily the lie had come to him. Maybe he'd been hanging around Yuka too long.

"Nice save," the teenager said, as if confirming that thought.

Gradually, those who lost their marbles to Jinju wandered over to their little group until they were surrounded by boys and girls. They began doing what had become a tradition among Nomads—naming every Airbender they'd ever met to see if their visitors knew them too. "There were these girls who stayed with us once," one boy said. "Do you know someone named Kaori?"

Aang recognized the name. Immediately a picture of a wiry dark-haired girl sprang to his mind. Kaori played sky bison polo; she was captain of one of the teams, always yelling like a psycho during games. Actually most of the girls who played were pretty scary, and Aang was about to mention this but Yuka beat him. "I know Kaori...very personally," he said.

"A lot of people know her very personally," Li said distastefully. Then he added quickly, "So I've heard."

Hoping to add something useful to the conversation, Aang offered, "She plays sky bison polo."

"That's not all she plays," Yuka said. A few people laughed at this.

She must play airball, too, Aang thought. Then, suddenly feeling reckless—probably because Yuka was still holding Lila, and how dangerous can a guy burping a baby be?—he said, "She's pretty loony, though. I guess that's why you're such good friends." Unfortunately, the only person who heard him was Kripi, and it just made her giggle and smile like a fool.

"What about Monk Gyatso?" Gul asked, brushing rice from his mustache. "Is he still around?"

"Yeah!" Aang answered before someone could beat him to it. "He's my teacher."

"Then you're very fortunate. Monk Gyatso is a man who I truly admire and respect. He's an brilliant Airbender, and an exemplary human being. You'll learn a lot from him. Say, does he still bake cakes?"

"Yeah, and he throws them, too."

Gul laughed, and rubbed the top of his head, closing his eyes as he thought. "How about Monk Uichi?"

"Sure! Did he have a beard when you were there? Because he doesn't anymore." Aang laughed as Gul's eyebrows flew up and his mouth hung open.

"Yuka did it," Aang said. The amazement was plain on Gul's face. Aang knew how the older Airbender felt, because it was the same way he had felt when they told him, "Yuka did it." That combination of astonishment, respect, humility, pride. For a split second, Yuka was untouchable again, superhuman again, a legend again, not a lunatic but a genius, and if he'd apologized right then Aang would've forgiven him on the spot.

"How in the world did you pull that off?" Gul inquired.

Yuka shrugged. "I had help. From my buddy Tabari on kitchen duty, and this little old lady in the Earth Kingdom who makes sleeping medicine. The hardest part was figuring out what to do with all that hair. I think we ended up putting it in his dresser drawer."

"Why did you do it?" Aang prodded, since he seemed to be in a talkative mood. "What did Monk Uichi do to you anyway?"

"What did he do to me?" Yuka echoed. "He's full of shit, that's what he did to me."

Aang frowned. "Thanks for clearing that up," he said sarcastically. "I don't think you should talk like that around babies, or girls."

"Ladies," Kripi corrected gently.

Gul raised one eyebrow. "Why do you say that, Yuka?"

"It's true." Aang laughed as he scrunched up his face and squinted with one eye—a perfect impersonation of the old monk. He imitated Monk Uichi's raspy voice. "'Yuka, you are a waste of potential. If you spent half as much time focusing on your studies as you do making yourself a nuisance, you might have a glimmer of hope. You, of all people, need to stay within these grounds, where you belong.'" He grinned at Gul. "I bet he gave you the same kind of crap, didn't he?"

Before Gul could say anything Li spoke up. "It's not crap. He's right. I admit, Monk Uichi's social skills may be lacking, but he has a point. Maybe if you'd just drop your grudge you'd realize that."

"This from a guy who spends half his time hunched over kissing monk ass," Yuka snickered.

"You act like everyone's out to get you. You can't even see that the monks are doing what's in your best interest. That's why they asked me to help you-"

"I didn't ask for help," Yuka sneered. "I didn't ask to be there." The group had grown quiet; their eyes bounced from one teenager to the other, like people watching an airball game. Any pride he had felt evaporated. Li and Yuka had gotten along for two days, and although Aang hadn't fooled himself into thinking the truce was permanent, he didn't understand why they had to start arguing here, now, in front of these people who had been so kind to them. They were embarrassing themselves, and they were embarrassing him.

"Look, will you stop and listen to yourself?" Li hands waved about, emphasizing every word. "If you want to leave so bad, then you have to cooperate now. Why is that so hard for you?"

Yuka shook his head in a pitying, almost bewildered manner. "I really don't expect someone like you to understand. Every thought in your head is part of this...this..." He raised his eyes, seeking the right word in heavy yellow branches. "Joke. It's a joke. He gets it," he said, jerking his head at Gul, who looked at Yuka with a small, thoughtful frown.

Li was livid. "Why? Because he left the temple? That automatically puts him on your side? Take a look, Yuka." He gestured to Gul with one sweeping hand, as if presenting the older Airbender before a council. "Here's the difference between you and him—he's a Master. You aren't even close, and you aren't trying. He's had nothing but praise for the Air Temple. You have no respect for the traditions of your own people! I'm not saying you have to agree with them, but at least make an effort to understand them."

Yuka turned to Gul. "But you're glad you left," he told him, as if this was a fact as obvious as the weather. "You're happier now than you were there, aren't you?" He persisted. Aang was shocked, and he held his breath involuntarily. That wasn't a question you just went around asking people. Leave it to Yuka to grab on to the touchiest subject and throw salt in its eyes. Gul said nothing at first; he stared at his empty bowl, crafting a careful reply that wouldn't upset either teenager.

Aang could hear the glassy clinking of Jinju's marbles, a breeze rustling the grasses, the bison snorting and splashing, Kripi fidgeting beside him, someone humming, someone coughing, birds, insects, and still there were not enough noises to fill the sudden void.

Maybe she, too, felt the animosity that hung over her little head like a crackling storm cloud, or maybe it was a lucky coincidence, but Lila chose this time to belch loudly.

"Damn it," Yuka cursed as he pulled the baby away from his shoulder, milky vomit dripping from her smiling lips, the rest creeping down his back. Tired of babysitting, he left to find the child's mother followed, moments later, by Gul.

--

The rest of the day passed by entirely too fast for Aang, who was having more fun than he'd had since they left the Southern Air Temple. They played tag in the trees, where he found a long red and gray feather; he gave it to Kripi so she'd stop bothering him, but it didn't work. They went swimming in the pond between the bison lounging there, thick fur coats no good in the Fire Nation's warm climate.

Aang helped with dinner, and while waiting for it to cook Tatapi let them lay their hands on her stomach and feel the baby kick. They sat completely still for a long minute, Tatapi's dress a patchwork of young hands, one with an arrow, until Aang pulled his back, surprised by the sudden movement under his palm. Instantly all the hands shifted over towards his abandoned spot.

"Four bison," Tatapi mused. "What do you think that means? Boy or girl?"

Aang thought this over for a moment, then answered, "Probably twins."

"That's the last time I ask you anything!" Tatapi laughed and shoved him playfully.

Later that night, as they stared at the stars with all the sleeping mats surrounding them in a circle, Jinju and Aang retold their story. It must have been the twentieth new version. They spoke in excited whispers—Tatapi, in her tent with the youngest children, would be furious if they woke her up again.

"So, there we were, surrounded by bloodthirsty cannibals in front and a sheer drop into the frigid ocean behind us. They had these spears made of human bones, and knives made of sharpened human teeth, and every one was pointed right at us." Aang jabbed an imaginary spear at the sky.

"That's when we saw the pirate ship!" Jinju shouted, and they shushed him quickly, biting their lips to keep from laughing too loud.

No one believed a word of it, but that didn't stop them from enjoying the ride. Aang lay among them, counting stars, hypnotized by the sound of his own voice and Jinju's, and he kept talking, kept the story alive like a lullaby that lulled everyone to sleep.