25. Killer
The waterbender's haunted eyes warmed Yon Rha like a hearth fire. She was like a cornered animal, waiting to be slaughtered. One more untrained waterbender to slay.
Outside, he heard the little girl calling for help. Soon, water tribe warriors would storm this little igloo trying to stop him. He'd leave them a corpse, he decided. "So sorry," he said lightly. The woman's eyes narrowed, arms winding around her torso as if to protect herself. He stepped forward, raising a fist and feeling the heat rise to his knuckles. "But orders are orders."
Orange light danced against the icy walls.
26. Dead
They'd tried to stop Katara from seeing. They'd been ten seconds too late. She sat outside the igloo, ignoring the stench, the horrible images dancing in front of her eyes.
Her father was weeping.
Sokka sat beside her, arms wrapped around her shoulders. The last time they'd hugged, he had claimed she'd had cooties and run off.
Katara didn't cry. Her stomach knotted up and her throat ached as if she'd been sobbing for hours, but not a single tear slipped past her icy control. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't do anything.
Inside the igloo, her mother was dead.
27. Tears
The war had been a vague concept to her, something too distant to affect their tribe. As Katara watched her grandmother push her mother's leather-wrapped body into the sea, Katara understood her mistake. War wasn't vague or distant. War was something that took hold of people's hearts, ripped them out, and tossed them onto the ice.
"May your journey to the Spirit World be a gentle one, my daughter," her grandmother whispered as the bundle of fabric disappeared under the water. Bubbles rose to the surface.
For the first time since running into their igloo, Katara was able to cry.