The plane bumped down on a deserted patch of ice at the foot of the frozen mountains that towered over the home of the Southern Water Tribe. They were about four miles southwest of the city. Asami could see lights glowing faintly on the horizon. This was Site Three.

It had become immediately obvious from the air that the city, and therefore their first-choice landing site, was taken. Even from high up, Asami could see the blazes of light interspersed with sections of almost complete darkness that indicated an active conflict. An area near the east rim was burning, though she didn't understand how a war between two waterbending tribes had managed to set buildings on fire. The second site, just outside of town, was likewise compromised, having apparently been requisitioned as a parking lot for one side or another's military vehicles. They had no choice but to land further out.

Site Three looked more like the kinds of areas in which they'd been camping. It was an open patch of ground, nearly treeless, with mountains rising to one side and an open plain on the other leading to the city. Landing on the ice had been tricky, especially in the wind, but Asami had managed it. Two weeks of rough landings had sharpened her skills.

She and Iroh tied down the plane as best they could and sorted their gear, leaving what they could in the aircraft for the hike ahead. Asami's suit, a Future Industries special design, helped regulate her temperature, but even so it was very cold. Iroh, she noticed, wore only his dark jacket. Faint wisps of smoke curled from his hands; he must be firebending to keep himself warm.

They set off. Even with her suit and a lighter load it was tough going. The wind blew constantly, scraping some areas of the ground bare and piling others deep with snow. They took turns breaking trail through the snowy patches, trading off every 20 minutes or so. At first Iroh had tried to do it all, walking ahead and melting a path with bursts of flame, but after a while she could see that the constant bending was exhausting him. He finally relented when she pointed out that he'd be no use to anyone if he fell asleep as soon as they got to the city. She, in turn, was able to blast a path through with her Equalist glove, which was once again strapped to her arm.

As they walked in silence, Asami's mind returned to the conversation they had before their final approach to the South Pole. She'd known that Iroh was breaking some serious rules in coming to the aid of the Southern Water Tribe—his cautious behavior had indicated as much—but she'd had no idea of the potential severity of the consequences. The fact that he could be killed—not just in battle, but by the very people to whom he'd pledged his service—was so unfair as to be almost absurd. With that hanging over his head, no wonder he'd seemed so stressed and distracted the last two days.

She also realized that it had been some time since she'd stopped thinking of Iroh as the General of the United Forces. Out of uniform and away from Republic City, far from their jobs, obligations, and mutual acquaintances, he'd become just another person. Her former image of him, stiff and immaculate in his bright red coat, or blazing into battle as he chased down her father's planes, had been replaced with that of a handsome young man in dark fatigues reading or boiling tea by a fire; a man whose hair was always falling in his eyes, and whose quiet laugh lit up his whole face. To think of that Iroh, her Iroh, being dragged before a committee of faceless men to receive military justice? It didn't seem real.

Their plan was simple. Assuming that Tonraq, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and Korra's father, was under some kind of surveillance, Iroh had decided to head to the last known location of Avatar Aang's widow, Master Katara, in hopes of getting more information on both the location of Asami's friends and where his help was most needed. Barring that, he and Asami would split up to canvas the city for more information or any sign of Team Avatar. Either way, it meant that she and Iroh would shortly be parting ways.

Be safe, thought Asami as she walked behind her friend. He was little more than a dark outline before her, silhouetted against the flames which he used to clear their path.

Please, be safe.

They walked the final half mile under cover of darkness. At this range firebending would attract too much attention. Luckily, most of the ground this close to the city had already been cleared of snow. A heavy yellow moon had begun to rise over the frozen sea, lending them just enough light by which to see.

Master Katara's proved to be a squat, rounded house of medium size in a quiet neighborhood near the southern edge of the city. Like most buildings of the Southern Water Tribe it was made mostly of ice, with several square windows set with glass and a sloping gray roof. The front door at the end of a short walk was painted a bright, robin's-egg blue.

By prior agreement, Asami approached the door to knock; Iroh would stay out of sight until they could determine who, if anyone, was inside. She rapped sharply on the door, then waited. Steps sounded inside. After a moment, the door cracked open an inch to reveal a single large blue eye. The eye blinked in surprise.

"Miss Sato, is it?" said a voice like dry paper. "What on ice… of course… one moment." The door closed and Asami heard a chain clatter. Then it opened wide to reveal Master Katara.

She was a little under five feet tall, her back bent slightly with age. Her wide blue eyes, bright and intelligent, were set in a lined face the color of toffee. She was dressed in the usual blue and white garb of the Southern Water Tribe, though in a slightly more traditional style than Asami was used to seeing on Korra. Her long, bone-white hair fell in a braid down her back. Two beaded hair loops framed her wrinkled, smiling face.

"Master Katara," Asami said, "is anyone else here?"

The old woman raised an eyebrow. "No. Why?"

"Because I've brought someone to see you."