Published June 5, 2013

Chapter Two
"Help or Hindrance"

Is this how Korra felt, when she first came to Republic City? Jinora had to wonder. Korra had never told her exactly what happened between the time she arrived and the time when Tenzin agreed to let her stay. Jinora had heard her parents mention something about triads and getting arrested.

Jinora imagined she felt more alone than Korra had then. Korra was older, arguably more powerful, and had always been more confident and self-assured. And when she arrived in the city, she hadn't appreciated how dangerous the place could be.

If only Ikki or Meelo were with her! They weren't shy or afraid of approaching strangers. They were open and honest to a fault.

Jinora was the quiet one. Sure, she could have bursts of energy and enjoyed playing with her siblings, but she was also content to relax with a book, or just daydream.

She didn't know what to do. She wasn't supposed to talk to strangers; she knew it was a rule of thumb in any metropolis, and especially here, after everything that had happened recently. What if she approached someone who had supported the Equalists? They might hurt her rather than help her.

As she walked down the streets, Jinora reasoned that she had three options: she could search for her siblings; she could try to make her way back to the park, counting on the teenagers to still be there rather than searching for the children; or she could try to go home, and get her father to sort out this mess.

Jinora heard laughter nearby, among the sounds of motor engines and trolley bells. Her eyes searched farther down the street and fell on a small gaggle of children playing with a ball on the sidewalk. Jinora smiled, recognizing her own age group.

"Excuse me," she said, offering a smile. The kids paused, eyeing the newcomer. They were four boys and a girl, all in threadbare clothes, mostly brown and green in colors. "I'm looking for my friends," Jinora began.

"Are you a monk?" one boy asked.

Jinora frowned distastefully. "Monks are men. Nuns are women."

"Which are you?" one of the kids asked rudely.

"Lay off," a taller boy said. He seemed to be the eldest, though his hat also made him appear taller.

Jinora took a breath. "Listen. I'm looking for my friends—Avatar Korra is one of them. She was with two brothers. And her polar bear-dog—a huge white animal? Seen anything like that?"

"Nope," the boy with the hat answered. "Not today, at least."

"My little brother and sister are missing too. They're small, and they'd be wearing this same outfit," Jinora said, pulling on her shirt.

The children shook their heads. "You're the first airbender I've ever seen," the girl said.

Jinora's shoulders sagged. She looked from one thin face to another. "Can any of you help me?"

"Perhaps," the tall boy said mysteriously. His sly smile made him look almost handsome, but Jinora didn't particularly like it. "Maybe you could give me some incentive?"

Jinora blinked at him. "Huh?"

"What'll you give me if I help you?"

"Oh. Um … I don't have any money." Rather than disappointed, the boy looked … unimpressed. Jinora tried to think of something she could offer. "Maybe—next time I come here, I could give you a ride on my glider."

The boy was still skeptical, but he said, "Alright. What can I do you for—I mean what can I do for you?"

"Can you show me the way to the police station?"

He brushed his chin with his thumb. "That, I cannot do."

Jinora was crestfallen. "Why not?"

"The police and I aren't on the best terms."

She furrowed her brow at him. "What's that supposed to mean? You don't look like a wanted criminal."

"I don't see that it's any of your business," the boy said crossly.

Jinora let out a breath, very annoyed by now. "Look, I'm leaving," she said. "If I don't have any leads, I'll just have to comb the whole city. If you can help me at all, now would be a great time to say so."

The boy shrugged. "Sorry, kid." He almost sounded like he meant it.

Jinora sighed as she turned away. It looked like she was on her own.

Skoochy knew who the girl must be. There were only three people under five feet who would be wearing yellow-and-orange monk uniform: the airbenders who lived on Air Temple Island.

He prudently backed out when she said she wanted to find the police. Then she'd gotten nosy, asking what he had against the cops. She would probably tell her father—the Councilman—if he mentioned anything illicit that he had done.

It wasn't until she had started to leave that it occurred to Skoochy: if he helped her, there was a chance her family might do something to reward him. On the other hand, it would run the risk of them wanting to turn him over to the police, or to the nearest orphanage.

He shouldn't have felt bad for her. After all, she had it a lot better than him and his friends. She had a home, a family, food, and status, not to mention the rarest form of bending in the world. But, in any case, he was curious, and there might still be a way for him to benefit from helping her.

"I'll catch you guys later," Skoochy said over his shoulder as he started to run off. He had to run to keep the girl in sight, as she was a fair way ahead of him. This was the sort of thing he was good at: moving fast, dodging people in the way, maneuvering through the streets and sidewalks, never noticed by the subject he was spying on. Sometimes he tailed people just for the fun of it, to practice for when the skill really mattered. When he was at a reasonable distance, he slowed to a casual walk.

The girl kept glancing up at the sky, as though that somehow determined which way she would go. After several minutes of what may or may not have been wandering, they approached the docks. There the airbender stopped, surveying the scene: people docking or casting off or caring for ferries, steamers, and smaller boats.

Skoochy watched as the girl walked out to a lone pier with no boat docked on it. He couldn't see her face; she had her back to him, staring out at the water—or at something on the water. Skoochy tried to follow her gaze, but he only saw the usual landmarks of the bay: Air Temple Island, Avatar Aang Memorial Island, and the Pro-Bending Arena.

When he brought his eyes back on the girl, she was turning around and walking back the way she'd come. Skoochy had to duck behind some wooden cargo crates to avoid being seen. He peeked out at an angle so that she couldn't quite see him. She had turned again, only about fifteen feet away from the end of the pier. She seemed to be bracing herself, or getting in a stance. Then she took off, running down the pier at a surprising speed.

Skoochy's eyes widened. What was she doing?

"HEY!" he shouted, but the airbender had already jumped off the pier.

Jinora was already holding her breath, so she was semi-prepared when she fell beneath the surface, though she'd really been hoping that she would stay above it. It was much colder than she'd expected. She kicked up back to the surface, gasping for the air she so needed—not to bend, just to breathe.

"So much for that plan," she muttered, wiping the water out of her eyes. She turned in the water and looked back at the pier, and saw that it wasn't deserted, as it had been a moment ago.

The eldest boy from the group she'd spoken to was kneeling on the pier, looking down at her. He tipped up the brim of his cap. "Need a hand?"

"No thanks," Jinora said shortly. She lifted her arms and airbended herself out of the water and onto the pier. She blew herself dry with an outward blast of air. The boy had to stifle a laugh when he saw the state of her hair, puffed outward in all directions. Embarrassed, and annoyed at both the onlooker and herself, she turned her back on him and sat down on the edge of the pier. She pulled her ribbon out of her hair, and attempted to smooth it out before putting her bun back in place.

"It may not be any of my business," the boy conceded, "but what did you do that for?"

Jinora huffed, trying to retain some dignity. "I was trying to run on the water."

The boy let out an incredulous laugh. "What?" Jinora said. "You've never heard of airbenders running on water?"

He stopped laughing. "Really? You can do that?"

"Well, I've never tried before, but my dad can—if he wants to." She had some distant memory of her father running on the water, one hot summer day. When was the last time he had done that?

The boy sat down next to her. "And did you have a purpose for trying that?"

Jinora turned to the water and pointed to the island in the distance. "That's my home. Air Temple Island. I figured I could go home and let my dad know that the others got separated." And then I wouldn't be lost anymore, either.

"By the way," she said, a little suspicious, "why did you follow me?"

"Curiosity." The boy folded his arms, looking her over. "If you're that desperate, you need help."

Jinora copied the gesture, looking coolly back at him. "Are you offering?"

"Just 'cause I almost feel bad. You'll owe me a favor."

"Okay; deal." The two of them shook hands. The gesture reminded Jinora of something she should have said earlier. "My name's Jinora."

"Skoochy."

"Is that a nickname?"

"It's the only name I use," he said indifferently. He crossed one leg over the other, leaning back on his arms. "So, what's your bigger problem? Finding your family, or getting home?"

Jinora considered. Korra and the others were bound to return to Air Temple Island eventually. And if she managed to get there, her parents would know that she was all right, and that the others needed to be found.

"I think getting home would make more sense than searching aimlessly through the city," Jinora decided.

"Can't you fly, or something?"

"I need my glider to do that. I left it back on the island."

"Well, normal people take the ferry."

Jinora nodded. "That's how I got here. But Korra has our money and tickets. I've got nothing." She didn't even have pockets in her clothes—it was a sign of having worldly possessions, which monks were supposed to have as few of as possible.

"So you need money. That's a challenge I face every day."

"Really? So how do you do it?"

"Well …" Skoochy hesitated, as though he wasn't sure he could trust her with a secret.

But Jinora remembered what he'd said about the police. "Do you ever steal?"

"It's called pickpocketing."

"You take other people's stuff. That's still stealing."

"Call it what you want," Skoochy snapped. "You gotta do what you gotta do."

Jinora wanted to argue. More than that, she realized she should call off the deal. If this kid had to resort to such a low way to make money, how could he help her earn some honestly?

"Hey, if someone caught you stealing, they'd realize who you are, then call up your parents …"

"I don't want to get home that way," Jinora said, sounding obvious. She was probably going to be in enough trouble as it was; she wasn't going to disgrace her family with criminal activity.

They heard a somewhat familiar chittering noise. Jinora turned her head in surprise, and saw a fire ferret scurrying up to them. "Pabu?"

Skoochy frowned. "Have I seen you before?" he asked. The fire ferret looked back at him blankly.

Jinora looked around the scene of the docks, hoping to see Ikki and Meelo searching for their baby-sitter's pet. But her brother and sister were nowhere to be seen. It seemed that Pabu had finally outrun them.

"Typical," Jinora said sardonically. "The pet comes back, but the siblings stay lost."

"Is he yours?" Skoochy asked, petting the fire ferret.

"He belongs to one of my baby-sitters."

Pabu came up next to her, rubbing his side against her leg. "Hey, you're the one that caused this mess," Jinora said crossly. "If you hadn't run off, Ikki and Meelo wouldn't have followed you, and I wouldn't have left Korra to find them."

Pabu made a dissatisfied whining noise. "He's not going to like you if you just scold him," Skoochy informed her.

"He needs to learn that he can't behave like that again."

Skoochy looked at her strangely, scrutinizing her. "You sound like a grown-up," he realized.

Jinora shrugged. "So sue me."

Skoochy was slightly taken aback, but then looked strangely satisfied with the response. Pabu kept trying to sniff his hands. "Hey, I'm the hungry one, not you," Skoochy said, brushing him off.

"Great. Just great." Jinora stood up, clearly irritated. "My little brother and sister are missing; my baby-sitters are nowhere to be found; and my only help to find any of them are a snarky street kid and a fire ferret."

"Hey." She felt Skoochy's hand on her shoulder, and turned to look at him. "Look, I'm sorry. I'll help you find your friends."

Jinora deflated, knowing that she had little choice, except to believe him. He was the only person who offered or was willing to help her.

Pabu climbed down Skoochy's arm and onto Jinora's shoulder. She couldn't help smiling when she felt his fur tickle the back of her neck. Skoochy remembered the last time he had seen a fire ferret, attempting to do circus tricks …

Skoochy snapped his fingers. "I've got it! I had this idea a while ago, but now that you're here it might actually work!"

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you on the way. Come on!" Skoochy got to his feet and darted back to the main streets, barely looking back to make sure she was following.

Jinora just watched him for a moment. He bewildered her just as much as she surprised him. "This boy is crazy," she said in a flat tone.

Pabu was silent, not arguing either way.