Tinderbox – Part Three
Disclaimer: Nickelodeon owns Mai's stabby manicure, and all other Avatar-related trademarks. If I owned Mai's stabby manicure then it might be animated more consistently.
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The sun sank low in the sky, an eerie, muted white behind the hazy smoke of the forest fire. Any refugees were long settled, and Zuko had gone off somewhere to badger the local militia boys into a sham of competence. Mai wondered if he missed command, or if he felt he owed a debt for leading Azula to the town. When Mai'd named him as an accomplice of the Avatar, it had been a transparent ploy to keep him around. Mai knew that it would look dishonorable for Zuko to abandon the town to their unknown enemyonce she'd pointed out to the villagers that he was clearly the only experienced soldier for miles.
It had been a gamble. He could have left regardless.
But apparently honor was still enough to keep him around. Mai could remember a time when the Prince played with toy soldiers in the palace gardens. Azula would spot tactical mistakes in their formation and he'd storm off in embarrassment, since they weren't mistakes on his part. It was just that he felt sorry for the foot-soldier pieces that couldn't bend and placed his favorites safely away from the front, where they could mop up any enemy stragglers that remained after the initial assault.
He never explained himself to Azula. Zuko hadcared too much about what other people thought.
At the time, young Mai had wished Zuko would care more about what she thought, because she could have told him that she noticed little things like thatwhich Azula missed. And then she could have asked him not to stop, because his soldiers might have been badly placed but Mai'd never seen a battle planned like that in her schoolbooks so it was kind of interesting.
Butof course, he never had. And that had been a long time ago, before Mai learned to sharpen her nails in case she was ever in a situation where jamming sharp claws into sensitive places would be her only line of defense. Before she was taught about maintaining cover in enemy territory.
Anyway. At least her memories still proved somewhat useful. It wasn't her fault that they easily distracted her at the moment. It wasn't like Mai was sentimental; she was just bored.
The townsfolk had set up a chair and some refreshments for the delicate Toph Bei Fong on the shaded porch of the local inn. Mai presumed that this was because the setup made it more convenient for the vanguard of old women that surrounded her to pester her with ridiculous inquiries about the Avatar.
If her count was correct, they were currently at question number one-hundred and twenty-one.
"Everyone's heard what the Avatar did with those pentapuss at Omashu! Do you think it would be possible to bring some here? Those Fire Nation idiots might fall for it again, and our bathtub must be large enough to hold four or five. My little Tam won't mind having to bathe in the creek for a few weeks."
"No. Pentapusses require more temperate weather."
Make that question number one-hundred and twenty-two.
"Tell me, Mistress Bei Fong, do you think the Avatar would like some lychee if I planted them in my garden? Or does he prefer oranges? I ship produce to a stand the next town over and if I could advertise it as Avatar's Choice I could really make a killing. That is, if you don't think the esteemed Avatar would object."
Mai had to take care to remind herself of how sensible her actions were. Repeatedly. She had to shore up her resolve. Otherwise she was certain that she would snap.
"Plums," Mai said, tersely. She'd made up more about the Avatar in the last two hours than she everwanted to actually know about him.
"Of course!" The gardener beamed. No one took the hint that Mai wished to stop speaking. If anything, the departure of one woman only made the rest of them crowd around her even more tightly. "Thank you, Mistress Bei Fong!"
Really, Mai was thrilled that her specialized education was being put to use entertaining rubes. This was the exotic espionage adventure that every Academy student dreamed of.
"Are you all right dearie?" An elderly woman – Sook Yin, the unofficial mayoress - touched Mai's shoulder with concern. She'd been careful to place her chair by Mai's and take charge of caring for the 'delicate' young girl as a way to gain control and prestige from the situation. Shrewd of her.
"Fine, yes."
Evidently, the venerable matriarchs of Chaing Rai thought of her monosyllabic answers were a sign of maidenly shyness and delicacy.
"If that young man of yours is bothering you, he looks a little-" Sook Yin started up again, her lips pursed with concern.
"No."
"If you-"
"No," Mai repeated, in order to shut Sook Yin down. "We've known each other since we were children."
No one expected Zuko to sit around answering stupid questions. The townsfolk didn't want to provoke him into violence.
It was understandable. Mai gathered that they mistook him for a particularly shady species of guerilla. Zuko's hair was short and ragged. Weeks' worth of grime starched creases into his mud-brown clothing. Those dual swords were anything but military issue. Livid red scar tissue curved his eye into a permanent glare. Mai had seen highwaymen that looked more respectable than the Prince.
"I see," Sook Yin twittered. The rest of the ladies exchanged Significant Looks.
So they'd reach the obvious conclusion. Predictable. A useful trait in persons Mai was trying to deceive, but otherwise utterly banal. What a naïve group. They were ready to believe the most outlandish things so long as they made for a good story. If they'd been born in the Fire Nation, they'd have learned to look for the fuel beneath the flash.
Mai didn't believe in fortune, but something was on her side. She was relieved from addressing her faux-discreet audience by the pull of a tiny hand on her skirts. A small boy had managed to squeeze through the copse of old women.
"Mistress Toph, Mistress Toph!"
Mai sat and bore it. Tom-Tom cried when he didn't get his way. This boy must be only a little older. Mai had been kept from her biological family by the business of serving Azula, and… crying children were not something she had learned to deal with. Nor did she wish to begin now.
"Mistress Toph, will you tell me if the Avatar can fly really for real?"
"Yes." Mai disliked children. They were loud and they created a fuss. Mai was quiet and she quashed fusses with decisive force. "He's an Airbender."
"Yeah!" The boy crowed in triumph. "I bet he flies like this, right Mistress Toph?"
The child jumped up and down, flapping his arms like an idiot.
"No. He uses a system of false wings embedded in a staff-like Airbending artifact," Mai quoted from one of Azula's briefings.
The little peasant child looked crestfallen. His eyes were big, green, and watery.
He stared at her.
Mai gazed back.
His eyes widened pitifully.
Mai gave up.
"The Avatar can manipulate the air to make his glider wings flap, if necessary," she lied. The boy grinned from ear to ear, and ran off to play Agni-knew-whattedious game. It was for the best. Sook Yin had looked both willing and able to bat the boy away with her cane.
Mai guessed that the withered old lady had kept her claws on the power in this village since before Mai was born. Sook Yin's face was as craggy and weathered as those of Azula's spinster sifus.
She must want the favor of Toph Bei Fong.
This was Azula's game. This was Azula's spotlight. Mai felt entirely out of her element. A septuagenarian was going to eat her alive and Azula and Ty Lee were nowhere and Zuko had no compelling reason to bail her out.
"I'm so sorry," the boy's caretaker squeaked, softly from outside of the circle of matriarchs that Sook Yin had gathered. Her clothing was patched and worn. She kept her shoulders hunched to the ground. "My little brother, um, bother anyone? I fell asleep and…"
"And what's to happen to our little soldiers if you do that, Lixue?" Sook Yin rebuffed her gravely.
Lixue looked at the dirt, chastened. This was a conversation that they had had before.
"I'm sorry."
"Good," Sook Yin dismissed Lixue with a wave of her hand. One of Sook Yin's ladies was pouring Mai a new glass of iced plum juice.
Mai stood. This was it. She had to get out of there while she still had a chance of escape.
"Lixue," Mai said. "May I speak with you?"
"Mistress Bei Fong-" Sook Yin interrupted.
"Please," Mai said. "The Avatar sent me here to help people. She's tired."
The ladies erupted into a chorus of mutters, one and all of them singing the virtues of the tender-hearted Toph Bei Fong.
Mai stepped outside the crowd and led the peasant away. Her mind was working overtime.
"I meant it," Mai could have clasped Lixue's hand, but she didn't. Getting close to people only skewed her methods.
"I have an offer to make you," Mai glanced around in order to make sure that Zuko wasn't hovering in the walls above them. Then she outlined her proposal in hushed tones.
"Wh-why would you want to-," Lixue stammered.
Mai merely raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, I see."
And that was that.
Now Mai had time to make some real plans.
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The day had been exhausting, if not physically stressful. Hours had passed since Zuko's retreat to the town inn. Both he and Mai had been offered accommodation, but they were granted separate rooms. That left Zuko alone with his thoughts – always a dangerous place to be.
He wasn't sure what to think about the day's events, so he didn't. Women were crazy and life was crazier. That basically summed it up.
Zuko exhaled lightly, and shifted on his futon. His first instinct was to sink into the soft bedding and refuse to emerge for the next twelve hours. Months had passed since he'd slept on anything better than moldy straw.
Naturally, that wasn't a feasible course of action. There was never an easy way. He had to stay awake. He had to evade Mai, leave the town, investigate the disturbance, and, above all, find Uncle if the coast was clear.
That was all.
Right.
The swordsman levered himself into a sitting position with a low groan. His back ached in protest. Uncle said that hard living wore down the flow of chi. Zuko knew the truth of that because he woke up every morning with knotted shoulders and flea-bitten forearms and bruised calves and the persistent twinge of pulled tendons. He learned best through repetition.
No matter. Good soldiers fell into formation with no complaint. When he'd stared down the fires of his first Agni Kai, Zuko had promised himself that he would become a good soldier.
Zuko fished his broadswords out from under the bed and then quickly threw on his peasant clothing. It smelled like sweat and dirt. There was more where that came from.
When he exited the room, he came face to face with Mai's doorway across the hall.
Zuko frowned in the darkness. He had a problem on his hands. If he left Mai alone in the village there was no telling what she would do behind his back. Contact Azula? Maybe. Devise a way to plant a knife in his back? Probably. Think of more crazy corners to talk Zuko into? Absolutely.
There were ways to neutralize this threat without acting indecorously. Zuko chose one.
Carefully, the swordsman sidled up to Mai's doorway. The floorboards creaked under the heavy soles of his boots. His breath caught in his throat, and paused. Thirty seconds of undisturbed silence assured him that he hadn't been detected.
Zuko crouched and put his good ear to the door. A dozen heartbeats passed. No sounds issued from within the chamber. Good.
Satisfied that no one was awake within the room, Zuko shifted on the balls of his feet in order to peer into the room through the keyhole. He caught a glimpse of loose dark hair pooling over white sheets.
Zuko immediately looked away. He'd confirmed that a human body was sleeping in there and that was all he needed to know. Zuko might not have seen anyone like Mai since leaving home, but that didn't mean he needed to see, er, more of her. He was notthe kind of person that went around peeping at girls in hostels.
Though that didn't stop him from staring awkwardly at the wall for a few while before standing.
Once he'd righted himself, Zuko contorted his left hand into tiger-claw stance. His fingertips sparked, without preamble, and a tiny column of flame formed at the center of his palm. This was more delicate work than he was used to. The Firebender took care to keep his breathing shallow and steady.
It sounded inordinately loud - living breath in the dead of night.
Ordinarily, this was where Zuko would lash out in an open-handed strike to grab and twist and rend and burn whatever was within his path. Instead he carefully raised the tiny flame to the door's cheap tin locking mechanism. No key would be able to open it- from inside or out - if the tumblers were deformed by heat.
The metal wasn't welded enough to provide a real barrier, but it was enough for Zuko's purposes. Mai couldn't destroy the door hinges without causing a commotion. Their rooms were three stories above-ground, so there was no way she could jump to the street below. That should be enough to keep the girl contained for the evening.
Zuko re-sheathed his swords before swaggering down the stairs and out of the building. He was feeling pretty pleased with himself.
Zuko: One. Royal Fire Nation Academy for Girls: Zero.
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Mai sat in shadow. The rough wool coat she'd borrowed from Lixue blended back into the darkness. Cool night air raised goose-bumps down her bare legs.
For the first time that day, no one was watching her. Her upper body was shrouded in the comforting weight of cloth. Mai felt glorious.
She took a deep breath in and a deep breath out, savoring the freedom of it. There was promise in the sound of the crickets beyond the walls. Finally, she'd found something worthwhile to occupy her time.
Mai was going hunting.
It was what she'd come all the way out here for. She was Azula's weapon – as prized and expendable as any wrought-iron war machine – but that did not strip the joy from it.
Mai had no choice, except the choice to love her work. So she did.
At the moment Mai was crouched in a darkened corner turret. Lixue – a diversion, poor weary little dove – slept safe and warm in Mai's bed. The peasant girl had been so grateful for the offer of a night of peace and quiet away from her family! She thought that she was playing decoy, so that Mai could sneak off on some tawdry sexual escapade.
In actuality, Mai was watching for her prey.
She'd anticipated that Zuko might try to make a break for it. And there he was, the Lost Prince of the Fire Nation, his skin stark white against the cobblestones of the town square. He walked right out the front door of the inn, and towards the gate. The blacksmith had been drafted to stand guard. After a few minutes of chatting, he allowed Zuko through.
What would happen? You never knew. It was unpredictable. So vital and alive, compared to the dusty grey halls of the governor's mansion or the staid corridors of the Academy.
Mai felt her heart beat against her ribcage.
When Zuko exited the town, she scaled down the wall using a stolen rope. The fibers bit into her hands, and she wished for her gloves. She wished for proper knives, too. The ones she'd bought that afternoon were badly-weighted kitchen utensils, and Mai knew they'd rotate in flight.
It wasn't personal. That was what she told herself, as she shadowed Zuko through the forest. Why should it be personal? Mai was a weapon. She knew what Azula would do if it became known that Mai let the exile out of her sights. Good weapons didn't disappoint their wielders. Good soldiers listened to orders.
Was she not a daughter of the Fire Nation? Didn't she have that pride to hold on to? It was Zuko's own fault. He'd done this to himself. Mai had known that since the day Azula came for her in Omashu.
Mai's slippers were thin. She lurked in the shade of age-old redwoods. She was careful not to break any underbrush with her passing. The Prince made enough noise for the both of them.
Her mouth was dry. The hunter swallowed in spite of herself. Something wasn't right. Zuko never looked back, never checked his direction using the stars or the moss. Ash snowed down on the both of them, casting their footprints in relief.
And suddenly, she knew. Zuko wasn't heading towards Iroh like Mai'd anticipated. She'd have no chance to note the location of their hideout and then go looking for help from Azula and Ty Lee.
The Prince was headed for the blast site.
What was he doingwalking right into a potential trap? Or a warzone? Mai had already told Zuko what might lie in wait!
Mai's pulse sped. It felt like her heart would flutter right out of her chest.
Her expression remained blank.
They were passing the fire line. Wind had blown the blaze away from their location, but it had done a fine job on the local vegetation. Zuko proceeded out into the open - past charred stumps and smoldering logs of charcoal – where Mai dared not follow for fear of being seen.
The remains of Azula's tank towered over the desolate landscape. Moonlight glinted off of broken metal. Steel support beams jutted up from the vehicle's frame like great bleached bones. Its innards spilled out across the clearing.
Mai's heart sank into the pit of her stomach. Some small hope extinguished itself. Ty Lee and Azula were nowhere to be seen.
Zuko was going to investigate.
Mai's knives were in the debris.
Zuko was going to find them.
Mai wanted her knives.
Zuko would catch her if he saw her.
Mai was certain he would see her.
But Mai had a chance of getting to her weapons, if she ran hard for where she'd left them and prayed to Agni for the luck of the sun.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Mai ran.
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Author's Note: This chapter? Pure setup, I'm afraid! Do bear with me. Thanks go out to Sifu Rawles, my teacher in the ways of grammarbending, and all around beta master.
Rest assured that I have done my research when it comes to pointy things! Mai's complaint about the random kitchen knives has basis in fact. Throwing knives need to be weighted properly to fly true.
Interestingly, Mai's combat style doesn't appear to have any foundation in Asian martial arts at all. It doesn't bear much resemblance to shruiken-throwing. The only analogue I could find was spear-style combat knife-throwing, which was invented by an American fellow a couple of decades ago. It's funny that the Avatar authors would include something so modern in their feudal fantasy world.
Then again, these are the people that included GIANT TANKS in their feudal fantasy world. I can't really cry anachronism at this point.