Chapter 32

Three days later, Zuko was glad to see Jet up and about again, seemingly well on the mend from his ordeal. He knew Toph was eager to get him training again, but Zuko wanted to spar with him. Sokka just wasn't much of a challenge, even though he was improving steadily.

Suki would have been more fun to fight, but she refused due to her "delicate condition" as she called it, even when he found her a set of fans. Her eyes had lit up all right, but she'd still resisted. Zuko wondered whether Toph would slow down any as her pregnancy progressed.

At the moment, Toph appeared to be as energetic as ever. She'd been sick a couple of mornings, but swore that continuous doses of ginger candy—especially that first one before she even moved in the bed on awakening—kept her stomach steady as a rock.

Zuko wasn't sure how much of that he believed after watching her leave the breakfast table in a hurry, just upon smelling the food.

All this was mysterious to him, mysterious and nerve wracking. Sokka had filled his ears with tales of pregnancy mood swings, tears without reason, strange nightmares, bizarre food cravings, and the perpetual need for backrubs.

"And footrubs," he'd added, probably because he was in the process of rubbing Suki's feet at that moment.

"Sokka, I'm glad you're here to give Sparky pointers," Toph had said with a huge grin.

Secretly Zuko was glad to have Sokka's pointers as well. But he was even more glad to have a new sparring partner. The exercise gave him something to think about that he actually understood and knew how to do. Toph had let him know in no uncertain terms that his backrub skills were seriously below par.

He watched as Jet approached the grounds, looking a little uncomfortable in what appeared to be new workout clothes. He was also without a sword. "How are you going to spar without a weapon?" Zuko asked him.

Just then Sokka walked up, holding out a sword in its scabbard. "Here you go," he said.

"You're sure you don't mind," Jet responded as he took Sokka's old sword in his hands. "I'll give it back before you guys leave."

"No, don't bother," Sokka replied generously. "After all," he said, giving the meteor sword a loving pat at his side, "I've got this one back and I appreciate it very much. You keep the other."

Jet nodded and slipped the new sword onto his belt, drawing it and giving it some practice swings to check the feel and weight.

With a salute to each other, Zuko and Jet had begun, Sokka watching from the spectator stands. Both of the men were worn out within minutes.

They sat on the stands beside Sokka, breathing heavily. Zuko rubbed his thigh and Jet rubbed at his shoulders.

"That was awful," Sokka declared merrily. "You guys are in pitiful shape."

"That didn't stop me from mopping the floor with you yesterday," Zuko replied.

"True," came Sokka's answer, "but that doesn't change the fact that you two are in pitiful shape."

Zuko looked up to see Toph approaching. "Is it over already?" she asked in disappointment.

"I'm afraid so," Zuko answered. "Sokka says we're in pitiful shape."

Then Mai came up bearing two tall glasses of water. "I saw the whole thing from the balcony," she said, handing one to each of the still panting men. "I can't say you missed much."

"Don't you two worry," Jet began. "We'll be putting on a better show soon. Just give us a little time to get the kinks worked out." He reached up to rub at his shoulders again, glad when Mai sat down behind him and began to knead the sore muscles. Hanging by his wrists had done him no good at all, he decided.

"You ready to go again?" Jet asked after a few moments.

"Hey, don't tire yourself out too much," Toph warned. "I've got you this afternoon for bending practice. How are the new boots working out?"

Jet looked down at his feet. "They need breaking in, but otherwise they're pretty comfortable," he answered with a shrug.

"I'm talking about the soles," Toph said, giving him a light clout on the shoulder as reprimand.

Jet flashed her a big teasing grin and she knew he'd been leading her on. "They're great," he replied more seriously. "I really can see through them. It's like my vision is there all the time." He closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated. "It's going to take some practice being able to see both ways at the same time though."

"Never had that problem. Sorry," Toph said in a lightly dismissive tone. "You can work on it during practice this afternoon."

It was a nice change of pace for Zuko to be in the spectator stands after lunch watching Toph and Jet work. After a few minutes, Mai came to join him. Soon Sokka and Suki showed up as well, followed shortly by Aang and Katara.

"Now that our full audience has joined us," Toph announced a bit sarcastically, "we can proceed to some of the finer points of bending."

Jet had been working very hard to move rocks with varying degrees of success. Sometimes it was easy; sometimes it was impossible.

"So far," Toph began, "you've been using the earthbender's jing of choice—pure brute strength, the big shove." She demonstrated by sending a two ton boulder sliding across the grounds with a mere hand gesture.

"Now, however," she began, "you need to begin work on some of the other forms of jing." She leaned into him conspiratorially and added, "Because honestly, you've started a little late to be a power bender. That's not to say you can't get better at making things move. But I think you'll have more success with some of the finer points—mostly because you've already learned to hear the earth."

Toph called Zuko, Aang, and Katara out to stand around the edge of the practice grounds.

Then she stood with Jet in the center. "Water bending is all about balance, letting things shift and flow around you. Earthbenders can use balance as well. It's a lot easier to tip a rock and let it roll than to physically move it where you want it to be." To illustrate her point, she slightly tipped the ground beneath Katara's feet causing Katara to stumble sideways several steps before she caught herself, laughing.

Aang laughed as well as Toph thanked Katara and let her return to her seat. Then she turned to Jet again. "Airbending is about subtlety. Airbenders use the element that surrounds us all the time but that we never notice. Try using their jing sometimes."

Aang was still laughing at Katara when he realized that without his being aware of the movement, Toph had sent stone arches over his feet, firmly anchoring him into place. "Good one," he declared before waving the arches away with a gesture of his own.

"A perfectly good illustration cut short by avatar powers," Toph sighed. "I was kind of hoping he wouldn't notice until he tried to go somewhere."

Then she looked over toward Zuko. "Fire bending is all about precision," she stated. "Wild flames don't do much damage. It's exactness that counts. When you let precision fuel your bending, you can send a shard of rock into a man's foot and stop him just as effectively as if you'd thrown a huge stone at him."

Toph then gestured to the ground before her husband and a small stone rose out of the earth in front of him, carved into the shape of the fire symbol. Zuko picked it up and smiled at her.

"Awww, how sweet," Jet teased.

"You didn't think I was actually going to stick shards of rock in my husband, did you?" Toph laughed.

Zuko pocketed the carved stone and took his place back in the stands with the others.

"How many types of jing are there?" Jet asked after they'd practiced for another hard half hour.

"Traditional wisdom says there are 85, but I believe the correct number is 92—or possibly more. I'm still learning myself, you know," she answered. "But if King Bumi asks you, say 85. It will make him happy that you agree with him and not with me."

"I'm perfectly satisfied with the five I know," Jet stated firmly, wiping his forehead with one hand.

"Oh, you know more than five already," Toph replied. "You just don't know that you know them. But once you know that you know them, you can use them more consciously to much greater effect." Listening in the stands, Zuko thought she sounded a lot like Iroh at that moment.

The next few days passed in much the same fashion, Zuko and Jet sparring in the morning, sometimes joined by Sokka, Toph and Jet bending in the afternoon. Lunchtime was usually a group activity, but dinnertime varied. Sometimes they all gathered together, sometimes the groups split into smaller groups, sometimes in couples.

Jet looked forward to another private dinner with Mai to make up for the one he'd missed while being detained by Omashu's finest. However before he could arrange it, The Duke and Pipsqueak arrived, launching another flurry of activity.

That evening they all went down to the leathershop where Smellerbee and Longshot had cleared out a large area for the reunion party. As they all walked downtown together, Mai was especially interested in meeting everyone. For one thing, ever since Jet had heard of the party, he'd been nervous.

They walked through the narrow streets as dusk fell. The street crews began lighting the lamps for the evening as they passed.

Everyone chattered happily, Mai noticed—everyone but Jet. For him, he was very silent indeed. So she pulled him aside. "You're so edgy," she said. "Are you sure you really want to go to this?"

"Yes," he assured her, giving her hand a pat where he held it tucked into the crook of his elbow.

"Then what's bothering you about it?" she asked. "And don't say nothing because I know something's bothering you."

"It's just been a long time since I've seen everybody is all," Jet replied evenly. Mai seemed satisfied—at least for the moment—and they continued to walk. But Jet's mind was far from easy. He had to admit that he was really nervous about seeing the guys again, especially The Duke.

The Duke had been so little when he'd found him in a burned-out village. Jet had been doing a some reconnaissance—actually he'd been looking for valuables to loot—when he'd heard a sound. He went around the end of a half-collapsed wall to see a tiny dirty figure crouched in the shadows.

The toddler looked up at him and all Jet could see was a thick shock of wild dark hair and a pair of big, hollow eyes. He had somehow gotten hold of Longshot's knapsack and was cramming handfuls of dried fruit out of it into his mouth. He wasn't talking yet and couldn't tell them where he'd come from. They'd had no idea how long he'd been on his own.

They just knew he was starving and filthy. So they cleaned him up as best as they could and fed him until he fell asleep. At the time, it had just been Jet and Longshot. Longshot had been just a kid himself, leaving eleven-year-old Jet as the leader and the one primarily responsible for The Duke's care. But by then Jet had been taking care of himself for over three years, so taking care of a few others wasn't a big stretch.

Soon Smellerbee joined them, along with a variety of other members who came and went with the seasons and the occasional arrest. And so the Freedom Fighters were born.

A couple of years later Pipsqueak had come along. Some of the kids expected him to take over since he was older and bigger than the rest of them. But he didn't.

In fact over the years, they frequently had members who were older than he was, but Jet always remained the leader, the one who made the plans and called the shots. If they didn't like it, they left.

Pipsqueak and The Duke became really close, but The Duke always looked to Jet with a sort of hero worship. It made Jet a little sick when he looked back at the kind of things he'd exposed The Duke to as such a little kid. Jet told them all they were freedom fighters, but in reality they were just a gang of thugs and juvenile delinquents.

At the reservoir even though he was the youngest, The Duke had been able to see that. He'd even had the courage to call him out on it. After Aang and his group had left, Jet and The Duke had fought bitterly, and in his anger and frustration, Jet had yelled at him for daring to question him.

That night, The Duke and Pipsqueak had left without a word. That had hurt. But rather than feel betrayed, Jet just felt guilty--like he'd let The Duke down, like everything he'd tried to teach him had been a self-serving lie.

The Duke had finally seen through him. He'd been right, and Jet had been too absorbed with his own need for vengeance to admit it. The memory was something Jet was still deeply ashamed of now.

How long ago had it been? Nine years? The Duke wasn't a little kid anymore, Jet realized. He would have to be eighteen or nineteen. The thought of that little boy being a grown man made Jet feel old. He felt old and he wasn't even thirty yet himself.

Jet and Mai trailed behind the others as Sokka opened the door of the leather shop, allowing the sound of laughter and conversation to spill into the street.

"Sokka! Suki!" a deep voice cried in greeting. "How are you guys?"

"Great," Jet heard Sokka reply as he and Mai walked up to the door. "How did the new boat run out?"

"Pretty good," the voice answered. "I think we'll need to do some work on the rudder linkage though. It seemed a little loose to me for really good maneuvering."

Jet stood in the doorway and paused to look for the owner of the voice. That would have to be The Duke. He wasn't sure he'd recognize him after so long.

Then he saw him standing there next to Sokka with a plate of food in his hand. He was tall. He stood a good three inches taller than Sokka. He had that same wild shock of dark hair and slightly turned up nose, still complete with freckles. He was lean, as if he hadn't finished growing yet, but Jet could see he'd nearly rival Pipsqueak in size once he'd finished bulking up.

Then The Duke looked up at the door and saw him. "Jet," he said simply, putting down his plate and walking over. "It's been a long time." And to Jet's surprise, the young man grabbed him in a heartfelt hug.

"It's good to see you, The Duke," Jet managed, returning the embrace warmly. After a long moment, the young man let go of him. Jet was surprised to see that he seemed a little shaken.

Then Pipsqueak walked up—still a mountain of a man—and shook Jet's hand firmly with one of his giant mitts. "You doing okay these days, Jet?" he asked genially.

"Yeah, fine," Jet answered, clapping him on the shoulder. Then he remembered Mai at his side. "Mai, this is Pipsqueak and The Duke—old friends from way, way back."

"It's very good to meet you both," Mai replied, smiling at them. Smellerbee approached with drinks for everyone and conversation began in earnest as they filled each other in on the past several years.

Pipsqueak had tried joining The Duke and Sokka in the fishing fleet, but his first trip out had been a disaster. "I was sick all the time," he groaned. "So I found a good job in Madame Wu's village. I work in a stable. I didn't know how much I liked working with ostrich horses until I got a chance."

Jet couldn't conceive of an ostrich horse big enough for Pipsqueak to ride. Then The Duke filled him in briefly on his career as a fisherman. "After the war was over, I just hung around with Sokka. Teo and Haru were doing earthbending stuff and I was no bender. But the ocean sounded like fun. So I went fishing and never looked back."

"The Duke actually runs a part of the fleet. He's the youngest captain in the tribe," Sokka bragged proudly. "My dad has practically adopted him."

"Yeah, Hakoda is sort of my second dad," The Duke agreed. "He keeps me straight."

"That's great," Jet said. "I'm glad you've got a real family at last."

The Duke looked at him with an odd look. "I had a real family before I joined the watertribe," he said. "You guys were my family. Still are."

"We were a strange kind of family," Jet said uncomfortably. "Just a bunch of wild kids. No parents, no rules."

"I had rules," The Duke retorted with a smile. "Don't you remember how hard you were on me?"

Jet looked blankly at him.

"Oh, yeah," Pipsqueak interjected in his deep slow voice and began to recite, "The Duke is not allowed to stay up late. He is not allowed to go on missions without Jet's permission. He has to do his lessons every day."

Jet had a flash of those days. He didn't know why he'd been so concerned about The Duke when the rest of them were only a few years older.

Smellerbee looked over at The Duke with a laugh. "You used to throw some terrible tantrums when Jet wouldn't let you go on raids with us."

"Yeah, but the minute Jet told me to zip it, I knew I'd better," The Duke laughed, then he turned to Jet and smiled. "I know you were just trying to protect me. To teach me right from wrong."

"How did you ever learn right from wrong from a group of juvenile delinquents like we were?" Jet asked incredulously.

To everyone's surprise, Longshot spoke up at that. "You were our leader, Jet. You had your faults, true. You didn't always do the right thing. But we all learned to be loyal, to listen to each other, to work together, and to love each other."

Jet looked around at the faces of his former Freedom Fighters. They'd all turned out okay, despite the fact that he'd led them. Despite the things they'd done as kids. Things done partially to stay alive, partially for revenge, and partially because he'd told them to.

Beside him, Mai gave his arm a squeeze as the group sat quietly for a moment. Then Smellerbee stood up and wiped her eyes and said, "Who's ready for dinner?"

The room erupted into activity as she herded everyone to a long trestle formed out of worktables with various boxes and barrels pulled into service as chairs. She and Longshot had really outdone themselves and the group ate merrily and continued to chat and catch up.

After dinner, conversation groups formed around the shop. Zuko asked Longshot for a tour and a chance to see some of his work. The girls all grouped together to chat, and Pipsqueak, Aang, and Sokka traded stories of Madame Wu's many predictions—all of which, Pipsqueak held firmly, came true.

Jet stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. It had been a hard evening in many ways. He sat down on the little wooden bench outside the door and put his head in his hands. A little jingle from the shop bell told him he wasn't alone. He looked up to see The Duke come outside.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

"Go ahead," Jet answered, gesturing to the empty space on the bench next to him.

"I wanted to talk to you about the last time I saw you," The Duke began.

Jet cringed a little inside, but he figured he had it coming.

"I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry," the young man continued. "I'm sorry I left the way I did."

Jet looked up at him in disbelief. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. You should have left. I was off the deep end. You knew blowing up the reservoir wasn't the right thing to do. You tried to tell me," Jet replied.

"But you were the leader," The Duke answered sadly. "Leaving that way was so disloyal to you. I owed you my whole life."

"You didn't owe me anything," Jet disagreed. "I was the one who didn't deliver. I should have been so much more for you guys than I was."

"No, you kept us together and alive," the young man said sincerely. "I learned so much from you. I wouldn't be who I am today without you."

Jet just shook his head in disbelief as The Duke continued, "When I said Hakoda was my second dad, it was because I always thought of you as my first. You raised me."

Jet didn't know what to say. The Duke took a deep breath and continued, "When me and Pipsqeak met up with Aang and the group before the Day of Black Sun, they told us what happened at Ba Sing Se. They said you probably died." His voice broke a little on that. "I felt so awful. I felt like if I hadn't left, it might have been different. I was afraid I'd never have the chance to tell you how sorry I was."

"Hey, I'm the one who's sorry," Jet said, putting his arm around The Duke's shoulders. "I mean look how I raised you. All I knew how to teach you was to fight dirty and evade the authorities." The Duke laughed at that.

"But I'm really proud of you," Jet finished, his own voice breaking a little. "I mean, look at you. A captain. A leader."

"I still fight dirty," The Duke admitted, turning to look Jet in the eyes squarely. Jet noticed for the first time that The Duke's eyes were the same dark green as his.

"Good boy," Jet said, giving him a clap on the shoulder before standing up to go back inside. "A fight with rules isn't a fight. It's a sparring match."

"They tell me you're going to be King of Omashu," The Duke said, looking up at him from his seat on the bench.

"We'll see," Jet replied evasively.

"I think you'll be a great king," the young man said sincerely. "The city needs somebody like you who brings people together."

"I don't know about that," Jet continued as they walked back through the door of the shop.

The Duke stopped him with a hand. "You see this group?" He gestured toward the room full of people talking, laughing, eating, visiting. "You brought them together. They know each other because of you."

He looked at Jet sincerely. "You'll make a great king. I'm sure of it."

Evening gave way to night and the party finally broke up. After repeated assurances that he would be back the next day to visit again, Jet finally made his way out the door with the rest of the group headed uphill.

"Do you want to stay?" Mai asked him. "I can walk back with the others." She gestured to the rest of the group just a short distance ahead of them.

"No," he answered. "The guys need time to catch up without me. I'd be in the way, I think."

The truth was he was the one who needed time to catch up. Seeing The Duke had made him think about his own life, his own choices.

They walked past the broken fountain. He reminded himself to talk to the city's maintenance supervisor. Then he asked himself what authority he had to talk to anybody.

They continued to head up the hill and through the gates into the diplomatic residential section. The bows of deference he got were a far cry from his previous reception.

Thirty feet beneath the street he walked on lay the cell where he'd been held and beaten illegally just days earlier. His back still bore the marks.

They'd needed so little pretext to arrest, convict, and sentence him—just on the word of someone highly placed on the Omashu social ladder. The commander hadn't even bothered to be sure Tiandu still wanted him arrested before he'd ordered the guards to beat him senseless.

A cold chill ran over him as he and Mai crossed the cobblestones. How many innocent people were rotting away down there right now because they'd angered someone of high rank? Who was going to step in and do something about it?

He began to seriously think about becoming king of Omashu.