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Chapter 14: Plans

Zirin's heart pounded. A giant sledgehammer in her chest, like feet kicking wildly against the door of a locked room.

However, she only stared straight ahead as she walked, her heavy leather armor bumping lightly against her legs with each step, fighting the urge to glare—Fire Lord Zuko's guards didn't wear the skull masks of the army or royal procession inside the palace, perhaps as a security measure against just such an infiltration, and her face was fully visible.

So far, Azula's plans had played out perfectly. Zirin had found a puma-mule to steal, exactly where Azula had said, and Zirin had ridden it all the way across the empty landscape to the capital. There she had changed into the guard uniform Azula had hidden in a rocky nook outside the crater—exactly her size—and proceeded to not only simply walk into the capital as a guard, but also onto the palace grounds themselves, exactly when the shift was to change.

There was still the danger she might be recognized. They still had to know she was loose, and might have drawn up wanted posters, or some sharp-eyed officer who knew who was supposed to be on shift might notice she wasn't one of them. And yet, it had been a long time since Zirin had felt so alive.

Azula wasn't so bad, really. Oh, she made everyone do all kinds of things they didn't want to do, laced every word she spoke with sly backhanded threats, and would drop a person the second they were no longer a part of her plans—but being a part of Azula's plans had to be one of the best feelings in the world. She could almost taste the thrill of success.

Zirin's eyes shifted slightly—another guard was approaching from the other direction along the corridor. Their eyes met briefly—she tensed slightly, but then dipped her head in a polite nod.

He didn't nod back. Instead, he came to a stop, and internally she cursed.

"Hey," he said, strangely uncertain.

Zirin hesitated, trying to think quickly. In spite of all Azula's preparations, her disguise would fall apart under even the slightest scrutiny. She knew little about the guard, its protocols and procedures, and she would obviously not be in any record of the current guard. However, ignoring him would be even more suspicious. She reluctantly slowed.

"You new?" he asked.

She hesitated. "...Yeah."

He grinned sheepishly. "Me too. We're supposed to be in teams, three or more, but I got lost on the way to meet mine. You too?"

Zirin kept her eyes down, though she would have rather clubbed the moron senseless and been on her way. "...Yeah," she said curtly, hoping he would get the hint. "Lost."

He shook his head, helmet rattling. "You really think we're going to be attacked? Spirits or whatever it is?"

Zirin paused again, this time with surprise. "...Spirits?"

"Yeah," he said. "Or waterbenders, or something. That's what I heard. I wasn't here for the first attack a moon ago, I just heard about it."

"Oh," said Zirin, eyes darting everywhere. "Waterbenders, right." The fifth full moon… She wondered if Azula had timed it this way on purpose—had she known the guard would be extra vigilant tonight, or was it just bad luck? Zirin knew a thing or two about bad luck, but it was unlike Azula to simply not be aware of something so important.

The guard studied her more closely now. "You know about it, right? We just had a meeting yesterday, for all the guards."

This conversation was going bad fast. Maybe she should chance trying to knock him out after all, before he could sound an alarm. A quick sucker punch to the side of the head might do it. But that helmet was in the way—

Azula's advice whispered in her ear.

Be confident, be comfortable. That is the secret, Zirin, to going where you are not supposed to go. Fear is suspicious. So don't show it.

Zirin took a short breath, then forced the corners of her mouth up in a smile, for the first time looking him directly in the eye.

"I didn't go," she said, and she raised her voice to a girlish twitter. "I went down to the city to hang with some friends. I hate meetings."

He blinked at the smile—then a hint of color crept up his cheek, and he glanced away. "Me too," he admitted, with a half grin. "Hate meetings, I mean." He added, "Hey, maybe you and I can form a group, and no one will say anything. We can just join the next one we see."

Zirin knew she couldn't let that happen, and tried to think. "Sorry," she said, still in a voice an octave higher than her own. "But my cell is waiting for me." She sighed dramatically. "Boss is always on my case, and he'll kill me if I don't show up."

"Is it Lieutenant Raozo? He's such a jerk."

Zirin nodded once, carefully. "Yeah… him."

The guard sank slightly in disappointment. "Well… it was nice meeting you." He started to turn away, then paused and glanced back. "Hey," he said. "What's your name?"

"Zi—" she started without thinking, then winced, cursing herself. "...ki. Ziki."

"My name's Tozu," he said. "If you're ever going down to the city again—maybe… come find me?"

"I'll do that," said Zirin. She added a little wave, before she started back down the corridor. She felt him watching her for a moment, before he turned away.

The moment he was out of sight, she quickly ducked down a side hall. She breathed, deeply and evenly—that idiot could have gotten her found out. Good thing most Fire Nation soldiers had more flirt than brains. Azula's plans were still on track.

Zirin raised her eyes to the hall ahead, and breathed when she saw it was deserted. She made her way down it, then turned, exactly where Azula's directions had instructed her to go.

They were silent the entire way back.

Not that Sokka normally minded silence. Whatever anyone might think, when he was out fishing, or hunting, or testing out new improvements to his various battle weapons, he could be quiet for hours.

However, at the moment Sokka might have liked some conversation, if just to take his mind off the unsettling inky blackness around them, as the ground churned on its own, grumbling like a thousand grumpy ghosts. But, Zuko needed his brooding time the same way Aang needed time to play with his marbles, or Katara to fix her hair in loops. So Sokka magnanimously left him to it.

He focused instead on his plans for the coming fight. Trying to go through all the possibilities again of everything that could, and probably would, go wrong. He was counting on Aang and Katara's test being successful, and Aang being able to resist bloodbending. And Appa too, to an extent. And he was counting on there not being a ton more bloodbenders than they'd seen at the palace, so that Aang and Katara could keep them distracted enough that he and Zuko wouldn't be pinned down the whole time. And he was counting on them attacking later in the night, not earlier, before they were ready. And on Azula not being with them.

Sokka had never been above relying on a bit of luck for his plans, but this seemed like a long string of counting ons even to him. And that wasn't even factoring in how committed Katara would actually be. He knew she would do everything she could to protect Aang, protect them all, but it was the first fight they'd ever gone into needing to rely almost entirely on Katara's use of Hama's technique. Even if Katara thought she was ready for it, it was hard to say what she would do when the moment came.

Sokka felt as the earth beneath them suddenly ground to a halt, and he blinked as the earthen platform began to rise. The sound of rock crumbling away above their heads and falling on either side of them made him cringe—given how far away Toph was now, all it would take was a little lapse in concentration, and they'd both be buried alive, with no one to hear them scream.

But of course, Toph wasn't the best earthbender in the world for nothing, and a moment later Sokka tasted the fresh night air. He had to blink as the silver moonlight just peaking over the mountains to the east met his eyes.

"Well," he said. "That was different. Don't think it's going to catch on with the tourists, though." He glanced Zuko's way to see if there would be a response, and Zuko wore almost exactly the expression Sokka might have imagined. A deep slash between his eyebrows, mouth twisted in a frown of concentration. His eyes scanned the empty landscape, darting between each of the rocks in the distance, searching out hiding places.

Sokka sighed and turned instead toward the lake.

Aang and Katara were, unusually, not standing together. Katara stood out on the lakeshore, her back to them. Aang, meanwhile, was sitting on a rock that he might have bent himself, facing east. The moment he saw Sokka and Zuko, he jumped to his feet and approached. For once he wasn't smiling, worry written in the set of his shoulders.

Zuko saw it too, and before Sokka could speak, Zuko was already pushing past him to meet Aang.

"What is it?" Zuko asked in a low voice. "It didn't work?" He glanced toward Katara.

Aang shook his head quickly. "No, it did. I think I'll be able to fight them off in the Avatar State."

Zuko sagged slightly with relief, letting out a breath. "Good." He hesitated, studying Aang's face. "So… what's wrong?"

Aang glanced in Katara's direction again.

Sokka looked that way too, then back at Zuko. "Hey," he said. "Aang, do you think Zuko would be able to call Appa back down? We should be ready." Appa, Momo curled up at the very back of the saddle for his protection, had been up there plenty long enough for Azula and the bloodbenders to spot him and find their location, if they hadn't known it already. Better that they all be together for when the fight came.

Aang blinked, then nodded. "Um, yeah, he'll come for you, Zuko." He reached into his light orange robe and withdrew a small white object, offering it. "Here, take this, just in case he's too high up to hear you."

Zuko took the bison whistle, then nodded solemnly once. He turned, striding away in the direction of the lake, only stopping when he was exactly beneath where Appa circled.

Sokka put a hand on Aang's shoulder. He glanced toward Katara again once, then leaned close and whispered, "Okay, so how did it go? Really go?"

Aang glanced at him, surprised. He shrugged. "Like I said… it worked."

Sokka continued, "And you think it will still work when you're fighting more than one of them? When they're fighting you?" He didn't say it as a challenge—he just needed to know as much as he could.

Aang's eyes slipped away uncomfortably, and Sokka pressed, "Aang, this isn't about anybody's feelings, I just need you to be honest with me."

Aang nodded once and took a breath. "We… tested it pretty thoroughly."

Sokka nodded once, satisfied. "Good." He added, "And… what do you think about Katara? Is she ready?"

Aang's eyes stared out at Katara, who hadn't turned, hadn't moved at all since their arrival.

"Sokka," he said suddenly. "Do you think… that bloodbending is evil?"

Sokka wasn't sure now was the best time for a philosophical discussion, but Aang's expression was earnest. Sokka sighed.

"Honestly, Aang… no, I don't." He shrugged. "I mean, Hama was creepy and all, and locking people in a mountain by controlling their own bodies was kind of wacko mini-evil-lord stuff, but saying bloodbending's evil all the time no matter what—all bending can do horrible things. Even regular people like me can kill people with swords and clubs. Bloodbending is creepy, but if we're the ones using it—or Katara's using it—" Sokka shrugged again. "Well, it's just something else we can use to protect people. Right?"

Aang hesitated for a moment. At last he nodded once. "I know, you're right. It's just…" He trailed off, and didn't continue.

Sokka didn't like the uncertainty in his face, and he reached forward to grip both of Aang's shoulders tightly, shaking him. Still keeping his voice low, he said, "Aang, we have to do this, and we need Katara to be on board. If you think she's not, I need you to go talk some sense into—"

"You're back."

Sokka nearly jumped out of his skin, and he half turned his head to see that Katara had somehow managed to materialize just a few feet away, half behind him. Her boots hadn't even made a sound on the stone.

"I think they'll wait a little longer," she said after a moment, eyes glancing toward the east. "I still don't think it's reached its peak of power yet. I'll feel it when it does."

Sokka hesitated. "Yeah… Good. Great. That'll help."

He watched his younger sister warily. In all his years in the South Pole and traveling together, he'd never actually been scared of her. Not of her magic water, not of her moods. The scariest thing she was liable to do was refuse to sew up the hole in the back of his pants, or occasionally drop a snowbank on him.

But there was something weird in her face now—or maybe it was the lack of what he might have expected. When Katara got upset, she got a bit crazy. She yelled at people, said nasty things she—mostly—didn't mean. With the way Aang had been looking at her, Sokka had expected some of that, maybe some calming her down, some talk about why they had to do this. Instead, her face was—calm? No, not calm—like a lake so still it surely had to be disturbed at any moment, by a violent wind, a falling avalanche. Her face was calm, collected, yet her eyes burned.

"I'll go get Appa in position," Aang said, ducking his head. He hurried away.

Sokka watched him go a moment, then glanced back at his sister, still wearing that strange, unnerving expression.

"So," he said finally. "Is everything… okay?"

Katara looked away. She shook her head. "You know it's not, Sokka. But…" She turned her eyes back to him. And for a moment, her eyes seemed to blaze white hot, before her face settled again. "I'm ready to fight." She turned her back on him. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

Sokka rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. I guess… not."

Katara walked away, back toward the lake. As she did, he saw her raise a hand and flex her fingers experimentally, spreading them apart, then pinching them together. She shook out her arm, then did it again.

Sokka looked away, back where Zuko was standing with Appa, and now Aang joined him to guide Appa to circle in the air not far above the lake, on the lookout for approaching enemies, but low enough to join the fight quickly when it came.

The air wasn't that cold really, yet Sokka felt a light chill skitter over his skin anyway. Discussing the plan in theory—knowing they had so many masters and fighters, Zuko, Katara, himself, Appa, not to mention the Avatar—it had seemed like it ought to be more than enough firepower to take whatever might be thrown at them. But the more he looked at them, the more their forces seemed a bit thin.

Sokka drew out his boomerang, and fingered the sharp end. He wondered what Suki would say if she were here. Guard your weak points. Or, This is the worst plan you've ever come up with. Or maybe she wouldn't even talk to him. Maybe she'd be too busy trying to help Katara, maybe she'd be able to see what she was thinking, and know exactly the right thing to say.

Sokka blinked, realizing he'd let his concentration lapse. He quickly turned his eyes to the east—where the glowing full moon was just visible over the mountains.

Zirin emerged into a wide hall.

Tall pillars split the place in half. On one side, enormous ink paintings met her eyes, all soaring to the ceiling. The Royal Portrait Gallery, Azula had called it. The baleful eyes of the previous Fire Lords glared down from their immortalized place in history, flames in their hands. Fire Lord Zuko didn't have one yet, perhaps optimistically meaning to wait until his prime years, when his reign was at its peak of prosperity. He had left the previous Fire Lord's portraits in place, in spite of the fact he planned to undo everything they had done. Had it been Azula usurping the throne, Zirin imagined she would have had all the previous Fire Lords torched, so the Fire Nation's history began with her.

Zirin stepped forward, stopping before the portrait of the Fire Lord just before Fire Lord Sozin. This Fire Lord looked strangely peaceful—his eyes closed, the sun behind his head surrounded in gentle swirling clouds. In one hand he held fire as the others did, but in the other was a star, maybe a spiritual relic of some kind. It was hard to think of the world before Fire Lord Sozin—that there could have been a Fire Lord of peace, like Fire Lord Zuko. That everything could have been different, and may be different again.

Zirin shook her head—she could care less about any of that. Instead she turned around, in exactly the spot Azula had instructed, facing the opposite wall. This wall was strangely blank, not a single painting or decoration. She started forward.

A sudden shuffling of footsteps made Zirin freeze—she barely had a second to dive behind one of the dragon-wrapped pillars before a group of figures, at least five or six, rounded the corridor, emerging into the gallery, their armor glistening in the torchlight.

"...too many points of entry," one was saying. "We can't watch them all."

"Especially keeping us clumped together like this," added another.

"Why would spirits need to use a secret passage anyway?" complained a third.

Zirin crouched in the shadow of the pillar, heart screaming furiously against her rib cage. She waited a moment, then took a chance, peaking out around the molded dragon's tail.

The guards were all turned away from her, and to her dismay, she saw they had all congregated around the blank spot of wall opposite the Fire Lord's portrait—exactly where she was supposed to go.

They knew about the passage—somehow, they knew.

Zirin's fingers tensed and untensed. What was she supposed to do now? Azula's plan hinged on the secret passage. There were probably guards inside it now, waiting for her, or else they might have blocked it up.

But then, this was all Azula's fault. She had specifically instructed Zirin to do this on the night of the full moon, when apparently some spirit thing was going on. Any other night would have been better. Azula had to have done this on purpose—it wasn'tZirin's fault she'd failed, it was Azula's. Azula only had herself to blame—if she'd ever even intended for Zirin to succeed at all. If it wasn't all just some elaborate game Azula was playing just to keep herself entertained.

Zirin's fingers curled into a fist, tightening. But then a strange thought struck her.

What if she succeeded anyway? What if she, Zirin, was able to do it, on her own, without Azula and her complicated plans? Whether Azula intended her to succeed or not?

The thought took hold of her mind, a small flame swelling in her chest. Azula probably wouldn't be impressed. She'd just act like it was no more than expected, that those beneath her succeed at whatever she tasked them to do, whatever the obstacle. But Zirin would know. She wasn't just some angry girl, good for nothing, a problem whose parents just wanted out of the way. She'd still be a problem—but at least they'd all have to look at her. They'd have to see she could do things other people couldn't—terrifying, important things. The way they looked at Azula.

The guards were still focusing on the blank wall where the secret passage lay, and Zirin, taking a short breath, stepped out from behind the pillar.

One of the guards turned, and saw her. This was no green recruit to be easily duped—his face was craggy with scar lines, his neatly trimmed beard sharp as a spear.

"You there," he snapped. "What are you doing? No guard is supposed to be out alone!"

"I know, sir," Zirin said quickly. "I'm new, I got lost."

"Who's your superior?" he demanded.

She didn't pause. "Lieutenant Raozo."

"Well, soldier, I'll leave it to the lieutenant to decide what to do with you. We're not the ground forces—sloppiness and insubordination is not tolerated in the royal guard."

One of the other guards placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Sergeant, cut her some slack. With the orders to double the guard, we've got a bunch of greenies. A couple of us can take her to her assigned post before it gets too late. You know how tough Raozo is on the new recruits."

The sergeant let out a low growl, then glared at Zirin. "Fine. Where's your team posted, soldier?"

Zirin didn't show any reaction on her face, but inwardly her mind was racing. The guard had been doubled, meaning that there were more new guards, guards the regular guard expected not to recognize. Maybe Azula knew what she was doing after all.

Be confident, be comfortable, Azula's voice whispered. Fear is suspicious.

"They placed me with a larger retinue, sir, so they told me," Zirin said. "They wanted more guards." She paused, and had to fight to keep the smile from her voice as she added, "I was told to report to the room of the mother of the Fire Lord."

A/N: Zirin chapter! Bit of a short one this time, just how it worked out.

Always fun to explore a character we don't know too much about in canon. Ironically Zirin wasn't even in the original draft of this story, a lot changes from one draft to another.

Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you in the next one!

Posted 6/28/23