.
Chapter 15: Betrayal
Ursa sat in the darkness.
It pressed around her like a physical force, heavy and suffocating. She had never been in actual complete darkness like this before, she realized—it was nothing like getting up in the middle of the night, with the silver light of a clouded moon to guide her way. There was always some light, somewhere, to see her own hand in front of her face if nothing else.
This was different. She could be surrounded by crocodile-wolves, sitting precariously on the edge of a precipice, or in the stomach of an elephant-shark, and she would not have known it. She tried closing her eyes, to make herself believe that the darkness was by her choice. It didn't work.
"It's gonna be okay, you know."
The voice came from somewhere to Ursa's right, but even though she ought to have been expecting it, she jumped slightly anyway.
Though Ursa couldn't see her, Toph seemed perfectly at ease—but then, of course she did. She could see perfectly well here.
Toph continued, "You're worrying over nothing. They'll be fine, they can take care of themselves."
Ursa opened her mouth to respond—then hesitated. Instead she said, with a bit of a smile, "Last time you told me I didn't need to pretend not to worry."
Toph grumbled something. "And I'm not telling you to pretend not to worry now. I'm just telling you not to worry."
Ursa chuckled softly. However, after a moment she sighed, gripping the torch they'd left for her in both hands. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I've placed a great burden on you all. I've made the danger Zuko and the rest of your friends are facing all the worse."
"Like I said," answered Toph, and Ursa could almost hear the shrug in her voice, "they can take care of themselves." A short pause followed. Then she asked bluntly, "But why do you even want to see Azula anyway? She's not gonna be happy to see you."
Ursa closed her eyes briefly in the darkness. A light breeze whispered against her face, the one Sokka had noticed, and she focused on it for a moment. Then the familiar features swam behind her eyes, a young face, small and round, with large eyes, not so unlike Kiyi's, before it shifted, the planes of the face sharpening into adulthood, eyes wild and ferocious.
Oh really, Mother? So I've imagined all this? You haven't been trying to take me down from the moment I was born?
Holding the unlit torch in one hand, Ursa wrapped her arms around herself, and something cold and wet stung her eye.
"I know…" Ursa said slowly, "when you look at Azula, you only see an enemy." She opened her eyes, though the darkness remained unchanged. "But she's my daughter. Who I haven't seen since I regained my memories, who was suffering when I last saw her. Perhaps someday you will understand."
Ursa regretted the last few words almost as soon as they were out. Zuko's friends had more than proved they were anything but children, and there she went, talking to one of them like one.
Ursa waited for some kind of rebuke, but Toph was silent. Ursa opened her mouth to apologize—but it was Toph who spoke first.
"I… wish my mom was like you."
Even though she couldn't see, Ursa turned her head in the direction of Toph's voice. In the little time Ursa had known Toph, she'd only known the girl to be brash, macho even. But now her voice sounded small in the dark.
Toph continued, "I ran away from home. I just—couldn't be the girl my parents wanted me to be. I met my dad again later, and we kind of made up, but I still haven't seen my mom. I could go find her and see her, but—I don't know how she feels about me."
She said quietly, "I kind of wish… she would try to come and find me, like you're doing. That, even if she didn't know how to find me, or what I'd say to her, she cared enough to try anyway."
Ursa felt the tear that had been welling up in her eye spill over, trailing down her face. She reached up and wiped it away with her sleeve.
For a moment, Ursa reconsidered what it was she was about to do. Maybe, instead of taking fate into her own hands, she could talk to Toph. Maybe she would even help. After all, what Ursa was about to do—was an undeniable betrayal.
But she couldn't place that burden on a friend of Zuko's. And she had already decided couldn't have any means of defense—or there would be no hope of getting through. Of proving what she wished to prove.
Instead, Ursa said, "I'm sure your mother didn't mean for you to feel you had to be a certain way to love you. Perhaps she thought that, in molding you, she was giving you the best chance for happiness."
Toph sighed. "Yeah. I know."
Silence. Soon—she had to act soon. Ursa's heart began to pound, in her throat, in her ears. And as she knew Toph could feel it, it pounded all the harder.
"What's wrong?" Toph asked, and Ursa heard a slight rustle of cloth on stone as though she were sitting up a little. "Sorry, guess you probably don't like talking about all that mushy stuff. I don't either."
"No, I—" Ursa tried to think, her mind racing. What she might say, that would be true enough Toph wouldn't see through to the lie, that wouldn't arouse her suspicions, now when she could least afford it. "Actually, I—appreciate the distraction. From—all the things I'm thinking about now. The things I'm afraid of."
Toph sighed. "Why don't we make a deal, lady—I'll distract you so you don't overthink things, if you distract me."
Ursa's heart was still pounding in her throat, but she forced a smile anyway. "That sounds fair. Thank you." She hesitated, then said carefully, "You know, I—learned a great deal from my own mother in my youth. She has passed on now, but she was an herbalist. There are herbs that can be prepared for almost anything—medicines to cure the sick, or ease a cough or dull a headache. Also poisons, to help make the passing more peaceful for those close to the end." She added, "In her spare time, she also liked to dabble in mixing aromas. Some were quite divine."
She carefully inserted a hand inside her sleeve and, from a small pocket sewn inside, she produced a small, plain wooden box.
Toph sat up slightly. "What's that?"
"It's a blend of herbs my mother taught me," Ursa said. "I decided to bring some with me."
"So… it's like some fancy smell?" Toph didn't sound particularly enthusiastic, but a hint of reluctant curiosity slipped into her tone. "What's it smell like?"
Ursa tried to slow the beating of her heart with another smile. "...Would you like to smell it?"
"Whatever," Toph said, but Ursa heard the light tamp of bare feet on stone, as though she had climbed to her feet. She stepped forward, coming to stand next to where Ursa sat.
Ursa extended the box, and curled the tips of her fingers around the closed lid.
"It's not gonna stick to me, is it?" Toph asked suddenly. "I don't wanna smell girly."
Ursa forced herself to relax. "Don't worry," she said. "It's very subtle. You'll probably have to get close to it."
Ursa held out the box away from her. And, holding her breath, carefully pulled back the lid.
A short pause. "Hey," Toph said after a moment. "I don't smell any…"
Ursa couldn't see the motion—only heard it. A small body, as it shifted sideways through the air. Ursa's hand automatically shot out, catching one sleeve, as the small form fell heavy against her. Seeing nothing, Ursa slowly lowered herself to her knees, lowering Toph with her.
Ursa finally closed the box, and breathed again. She gripped the torch where she had placed it in the crook of her arm, and reached into an inside pocket of her cloak. She felt the rough stitching of one of the legs of Kiyi's doll first, before her fingers found the smooth surface of the spark stones from Sokka. She felt the stone floor in front of her knees carefully, ensuring the spot was dry, before she set the torch down carefully. Just above it, with shaking hands she struck the stones together. Not so much as a spark.
Ursa took a deep breath, and this time her hands were steady. She struck the stones again.
The torch caught, and she carefully picked it up, raising it in the cavern.
Toph lay on the ground just beside her, long bangs askew. Ursa brushed the hair back from the girl's face, then, holding her breath again, she once again opened the box, and removed the damp cloth that was inside. Lavender-poppy could be powerful when inhaled, but it had no effect through the skin. Very carefully, Ursa pressed it over Toph's nose and mouth. She counted the seconds—one, two, three, four—then quickly pulled it back, stowing it once again in the box, and clasping the lid tightly.
That ought to keep her out for an hour at least. She would wake up groggy and disoriented, but perfectly fine.
Ursa gazed down at the small girl's face, slack in slumber. She hoped Toph would be reunited with her mother. She could not imagine that the woman, whoever she was, didn't love her—wouldn't come find her to see her again, if she knew it was what her daughter needed.
Ursa unclasped her cloak, and laid it gently over Toph's prone form, though not before removing Kiyi's doll from the inner pocket, shifting it instead to one of the pouches at her waist. She had to curl it in on itself, pressing it inward, to make it fit.
Ursa shivered once in the cold, then climbed to her feet. She raised the torch aloft, and turned her eyes in the direction of the breeze.
Katara stood by the water. Waiting for the fight.
She felt—strange. Like a storm was brewing, not in the sky above, but inside her. Like she would soon be overcome with a blaze of raging emotions, that would rip from her like a burst of sea water from a broken dam. But they hadn't come just yet, leaving her feeling cold.
She looked down at her hands, and her fingers tingled—both with the guilt of what she had just used them for, and with an odd, resigned anticipation. She had to defeat her fellow waterbenders first—and once that was done, then they could find Azula. Then they could lock her up, where she could never hurt or lie to or manipulate anyone again.
Katara blinked. She raised her eyes to the sky, to the silver moon high overhead, nearing its zenith. The power thrummed in her veins.
She looked to the others, standing near Appa, away from the water, and they each turned their eyes to her. She nodded once. Soon. It would be soon.
Katara began to swirl her hands. The water of the lake responded to her, rising up toward the sky, higher and higher—then it froze, a giant monolith of ice. Mist curled lazily over the water from its base. Katara didn't turn, her back still to the empty landscape behind her. She knew Zuko and Aang stood at the ready, to summon flame at a moment's notice. It was a cloudy night, and there was no guarantee the moon would stay visible though the long hours of the morning. So they would need the light. They would need to see.
Appa stood at the edge of the clearing. Katara could imagine Sokka restlessly tapping his knee with his bone club, though of course she could neither see nor hear him, where he crouched in Appa's shadow, watching.
Katara took a deep, steadying breath—and that was when she felt it. A slithering, creeping tug at her insides. It was faint—from too far away to be effective. But she felt it all the same.
Without turning, she signaled with a hand. Every instinct in her screamed to turn around, to uselessly search the enormous landscape to spot them in the dark, but she didn't. Instead, she flattened her hands out, raising them to the ice pillar, and with a series of quick sweeps of her hands, she sheared off the top, into four perfectly smooth plates of ice. She raised her hands to bring them to hover high overhead and, with a delicate shift of fingers, one by one she turned each of the plates to a precise angle, facing out toward the empty landscape.
Katara stared up at the plates, waiting. Now was Zuko and Aang's part.
A shout, and a moment later two giant bursts of orange flames lit the clearing, for an instant turning the night sky to day.
In that moment, she could see reflected in the angled sheets of ice the entire surrounding landscape, the dark lake, the flat stone all around. She could make out the hazy form of Appa, and Zuko facing outward into the dark, fists raised. But more importantly, she saw the dark figures sliding over the landscape on waves of water, coming from every direction. She counted one, two, three, four—
Still staring up at the ice, seeing exactly where they were, Katara raised her fingers. Tentacles of water shot from the lake like the appendages of a great eel-squid. One met its mark, wrapping around the foot of a racing waterbender. He cried out as his back struck the ground, and he waved his arms wildly as it dragged him toward the lake. Two more were knocked off their feet—with quick hand movements they reached out to push back the water, but Katara twisted her fingers. Their arms halted in place, then swung back, breaking their forms, and in a moment they too were being hauled along the ground, drawn toward the lake.
Katara finally turned around to face them, just as the fourth rolled to evade the tendril of water, then raced forward, spreading his arms wide. He was a little taller than the others, built wiry, thin but strong like rope.
Katara heard the rush of water behind her, and only had a moment to spin and raise one arm to form a barrier, as a giant wave crashed down behind her. She turned back to find they were all once again free of her, and close—bloodbending range.
One stared at her with face contorted, eyes ablaze. "Get her," he spat.
The power hit her from three sides, and Katara gasped as her hands, her entire body, seized. The angry one stood with his hands raised, and a bigger one with broader shoulders did the same. There was another somewhere to her left, outside her range of vision.
The tall one like rope, who had summoned the wave, now raised his arms again, and Katara saw overhead as the ice discs shivered. She had attached them to the pillar with long shafts of water, but as she watched, the shafts dissolved, and the edges of the discs melted and reformed, razor sharp. One by one they tilted—ready to fall straight for her head.
An enormous buffeting wind tore through the clearing, sending several of the waterbenders staggering, followed by a burst of firelight and pillars of earth at their feet. Appa stood at the edge of the clearing, tail raised for another attack, Aang in an earthbending stance nearby.
She let herself breathe. Too soon—a sudden roar followed by an echoing groan, and Appa tilted to one side, collapsing in a thundering heap. Yet another waterbender, this one with stringy dark hair, stood not far, a blow dart in his mouth, several darts sticking out from Appa's flank in the silver moonlight. Aang spun in shock, eyes wide, and as the bigger waterbender turned toward him, Aang seized in place, limbs trembling.
The angry one was glaring at her, eyes narrowed, nostrils flared. "Now you get what you deserve, traitor."
The tall waterbender's hands shifted—and the razor-edged discs plunged, slicing through the air straight toward where she stood bound in place below.
Katara knew the waterbenders were just being manipulated, that Azula had been lying to them. That it wasn't their fault, not really.
But, even so, she let the corner of her mouth twitch in a grim smile.
The angry one blinked back at her in confusion.
"Aang!" she shouted.
A brilliant, otherworldly white light tore through the clearing, and suddenly giant earthen walls erupted from the ground all around the closest three waterbenders, the muddy ground instantly hardening beneath their feet. The walls slid inward, pushing them all together like a net scooping up fish at a carnival. Aang hovered above them, his eyes aglow with power.
Their control broken, Katara raised a hand, deflecting the plates, sending them careening into the lake. They struck the water with an enormous crash, sending a giant wave of water exploding from beneath them. It ripped over her head, knocking Katara back a step, the dark water briefly blinding her to all but the silver moonlight above. Then it settled back, and Katara rose from the lake, dripping water. She turned in time to see that the tall waterbender was still free, racing in a wide circle around the water's edge, away from the earth blocks that burst from the ground in a line beneath him with every movement, trying to catch him. He didn't even look at Aang—his eyes still on her. Teeth gritted, he raised a flattened palm, and Katara heard a strange sound behind her, like a plate of ice being sheared in half.
Katara turned her eyes over her shoulder to see the tip of an ice spear had risen from the submerged plate, jutting from the surface of the water, pointed at her back. Katara raised her hand to dissolve it—only to gasp, as her hand froze and twisted away from her. Her eyes circled about, until she saw the bender with the darts, where he had come around the lake, surprisingly close. His eyes narrow, he had both hands raised, holding her arm. Zuko suddenly appeared from the other side of the clearing, charging straight for him, a second away, flames already at his fists—but as the spear surged toward her, a second was going to be too late.
A glint of whirling white bone emerged in the silver lighted darkness, striking the tall one on the back of his head, a second before it continued on, knocking the waterbender with the darts forward and face down into the lake.
Katara, free again, sliced a hand forward, and the jagged ice shard split in two, splashing harmlessly on either side of her.
As the tall waterbender, now on his knees, rubbed the back of his head, Sokka stepped forward, catching the arcing boomerang deftly with one hand. "Admit it," Sokka called. "That was good."
Stone tore up from the ground around the tall waterbender, catching both his arms, then encasing his entire body. At the same moment, the earth tried to catch the other by the lake, but he was faster, and he scrambled back. Aang stepped forward, eyes no longer glowing, but hands raised. He sent another earth binding up from the ground, but the waterbender rolled to avoid it. As Zuko charged toward him, the bender raised a hand, shoving hard backward, and Zuko fell back back, skidding along the ground. He came to a stop next to Appa, who growled woozily, still conscious, but seemingly unable to move.
However, the boy didn't try to attack further, only danced on the balls of his feet, eyes darting nervously around to each of the potential threats in turn.
Katara breathed, and again a hint of a smile twitched at her lips. "That was good," she admitted, glancing Sokka's way. "Thanks." She looked toward the earthen scoop, which had closed into a ball, where they could hear the waterbenders trying desperately to break free.
They had known the waterbenders would target Katara first, rather than engage with anyone else, and that they'd have to get close enough to try to use their bloodbending. Which was why they had decided to have Katara pull them in, get them all together as close as possible, so Aang could catch them all together, like one of Sokka's pit traps he used for hunting bigger game. She had nearly met her end at least twice, and her heart was still hammering in her throat, but all in all, it hadn't been as bad as she thought. They hadn't needed Toph after all—Toph would probably be disappointed to hear it.
She turned her eyes toward the last waterbender, as he took a step back, then another. "You can't win now," she called to him. "And you know you can't get away. Give up."
He stared back at her, eyes wide with a strange mix of defiance and fear. Though it was hard to tell in the dark, she thought there was something familiar about his face. However, before she could place it, his eyes shifted, slightly to her left.
"Ka—ta—ra—"
Katara froze. She turned slowly to see Sokka, his entire body quaking, both hands gripping his boomerang strangely. Then, as she watched, he pressed the sharp point of the blade to his own throat.
"Nobody move," commanded a voice.
A figure stepped out, emerging from behind Appa's paralyzed form. The girl—Nukka, if Katara remembered right. Unlike the others she didn't move on a slide of ice, only walked, her hands raised in front of her with fingers bent.
"Don't move," she repeated in a low, deadly voice. "Or he dies."
Ursa made her way quickly across the rocky landscape. She considered dousing the torch, and navigating only by moonlight—but the shadows were deep where the moon didn't reach, and besides, it wasn't as though she didn't want to be spotted. If Azula somehow found her first, that would make her task slightly less impossible.
Ursa stopped beside a large flat disk of stone to catch her breath, leaning heavily against it. Its surface was strangely smooth, like a river stone worn by years of rushing water. Perhaps it had been underwater once in the ancient past, washed out from one of the many underground rivers in the tunnels below.
At last Ursa stood up straight and carefully scanned her surroundings. The mountainous terrain extended outward in all directions, an endless expanse of nooks and crannies, and of course she couldn't even see the maze of subterranean caverns, which was no doubt where Azula would be now. She knew the lake where Zuko and the others fought would be somewhere to the northwest, but that was all she knew.
What she was doing now—it was silly, hopeless. She was more likely to be caught and eaten by a passing mantis-jackal than to find Azula. But she also knew this would be her final chance to speak with her, without a straitjacket or bars to separate them.
She closed her eyes, trying to draw on all the stories about Azula she had managed to extract from the servants and soldiers who had served under her. Perhaps there was something—some detail that might lead to a guess as to where, at least in a general way, she might be.
Ursa had not known Ozai when he was Fire Lord, and yet she rather thought, from all she had heard, that he would have as little taste for the risks of the open battlefield as the Fire Lord as he had as a prince. As prince he would spend hours in relentless self-training, until his body and firebending were as sharp as his words, yet he had never officially joined the military as his brother had. He had preferred the art of single combat, to demonstrate his might in a place where he had complete control, with little risk of being hit by a stray arrow or earthbending stone. As Fire Lord, he would have ensconced himself in the capital where he was safe and protected, directing his forces from afar, only venturing out when the comet came, when the might of his firebending would be at its greatest.
But Azula was different. She had personally infiltrated Ba Sing Se herself to conquer it, something done, as Ursa understood it, of her own initiative and not an order from the Fire Lord. Now Azula had surrounded herself with enemy waterbenders who didn't know who she was, with only her deceptions to protect her. Azula, unlike Ozai, seemed to prefer direct influence and control to safety—she extended herself out, with the confidence that she, like a stalking leopard-dragon, could seize its chosen prey, and come out unscathed.
Azula would be in a cavern near the lake, where the confrontation was to take place, Ursa was certain—perhaps not close enough to observe directly, but close enough that they would be able to report back to her quickly, once the fight was decided. Where she might still be able to interfere, if plans changed, if the situation somehow called for it.
Ursa took a slow, even breath. A small face flashed behind her eyes—dark hair, golden eyes, mouth twisted in an angry pout. And she turned her gaze toward the northwest.
They all stood frozen, barely breathing, staring at the girl where she stood behind Sokka in the moonlight. With a harsh movement of her fingers, he dropped abruptly to his knees. He bent forward, hands still gripping the boomerang.
Heart pounding anew, Katara forced her voice to stay calm. "It's no use," she called out. "You've already lost. And—I don't think you'll kill one of your own people."
The girl's lip curled, like a snarling, feral snow tiger. "He's not of our tribe. He's a traitor—like you."
She continued in a cold rasp, "We haven't lost. We knew all along you'd be too strong—we just had to get a hold of your weakest link."
"Hey—" Sokka started to say, but as his throat bobbed at the words, the razor sharp edge of the boomerang sliced a shallow nick into his skin, and a line of crimson blood trickled down to his collar bone.
Katara tensed, fists clenching. "Don't talk," she murmured, yet the words almost blurring together in panic. However, she shifted her eyes back to the girl, and when she spoke again, she forced her tone back to a careful calm. "Was that Azula's idea?"
The girl's eyes burned. She hissed, "You're just afraid the fire princess is going to come back for you. But you don't see that you've just made yourself a tool of the ashmakers." Her eyes shifted briefly for the first time to Zuko, standing not far behind Aang.
"Zuko is nothing like Azula," Katara answered, still in that same careful, even voice. "He's bringing peace to the Fire Nation. Peace between all the nations."
The girl's eyes narrowed. "For now. While he's playing along with you and the Avatar. Until he has the chance to seize real power again."
"She's right." It was the stringy waterbender who spoke. However, Katara didn't dare turn, didn't dare take her eyes off the girl, with her fingers still bent in front of her. Still holding Sokka.
The boy continued, "Fire Lord Sozin was friends with the Avatar, right? And he just waited until he could get the Avatar out of the way to start the war."
Katara considered that, then replied, "So, Azula's been regaling you with all the awful history of the Fire Nation? That's… fitting."
The girl glared at her. "I really shouldn't hate you," she said in a low, harsh voice. "Either of you. You're just idiots who've let yourselves be used. But—we'll do what we have to do."
Sweat was beading on Katara's brow with the effort of standing so completely still, keeping her voice calm. "What is it you want, exactly?" she asked. "Right here, right now."
"What we wanted back at the palace," the girl answered. "We want the Fire Lord."
Katara's mind raced. So, they had been right, back at the palace they had been after Zuko. They hadn't paid him any mind in this fight until they got themselves into position to make demands. All in the following of Azula's plans, no doubt.
"And what will you do with him once you have him?" Katara asked.
The girl spat contemptuously onto the stone. "Wouldn't you like to know."
The boy said, "We're not going to kill him. Not unless we have to. He's got information about the ashmakers—their strengths and weaknesses. He tells us what we want to know, he'll be fine. But mostly we just want to see—how the ashmakers feel, when their great, strong leader is snatched away, and they've got no one to protect them."
The girl twitched, as though in irritation to hear him share so much. But she didn't take her narrowed eyes from Katara. "You'll give the Fire Lord to us—or he dies." Her fingers shifted, and the blade of the boomerang nicked his skin again, forming a second trail of blood like the marks of warpaint. "Even you don't love the ashmakers so much you'd kill your own blood just to save one of them, right?"
Katara tried to think. Tried to see how they might get out of this. However, before she could decide what to say, Zuko spoke first.
"I'll go with you." Zuko took a step forward, hand outstretched with the palm down, in a calming gesture. "Just let him go."
The girl blinked—clearly she had expected the exchange to be something Katara would decide. After all, as long as the moon was still high, Katara was the one with the power.
"Zuko—" Aang began, as Sokka, face contorted, tried to say something again. But the girl's fingers were tense, and even his very throat was locked under her control.
The girl's eyes shifted toward Katara, looking to see what she would do. Katara didn't move. There had to be a way out of this—the girl was just one waterbender, and Katara's bending was much stronger. Katara could overpower her, if she was close enough—but at the moment she was too far away, and too close to the other waterbender by the lake, whose interference at the wrong moment would be deadly for Sokka.
Katara tried to think, but she was out of time to think. Zuko took another step forward.
"...Okay." Katara, sickness roiling in her stomach, raised a hand. Zuko's foot came forward to take another step, before it suddenly froze.
Zuko blinked in shock as his feet rose from the ground, his shoulders rising and head bending forward, like a squirrel-cat held up by the scruff of the neck. She didn't turn, but she could almost feel his gaze on her, confusion and hurt. He was going to give himself up anyway—didn't she believe him?
Katara didn't have time to explain, and didn't dare look away from the girl for even a moment. With one hand, she drew Zuko through the air, until he came to hover just before her, facing Sokka and the girl.
"Okay," Katara said again. "Okay. But you have to let my brother go."
"Katara—" Aang started to say, but she raised her free hand, cutting him off.
Katara took a slow step forward, pushing Zuko slowly ahead of her.
The girl again looked startled a moment, before her eyes narrowed again. "And you'll let the rest of them go."
"All but one," Katara said calmly, as she took another step. "One will stay with us. That's our insurance, so you keep your word and Zuko doesn't get hurt."
Sweat slid down the girl's face. And Katara could almost see her, trying desperately to think, like Katara. Trying to figure out how much leverage she had, without overplaying her gambit. At last she said through her teeth, "...Fine."
Katara could feel Aang's eyes on her, watching her, but she didn't turn. She couldn't worry about anything right now, except for saving Sokka and Zuko—she had to protect them. Her feet took her another step forward.
"There!" snapped the girl suddenly. "That's close enough."
Katara stood, barely a canoe's length away from the girl, Zuko hovering just in front of her.
"Okay," said the girl. She was breathing heavily. "Okay. You're going to—send him over here. Then you'll tell the Avatar to let the others go. They'll come over here, and we'll take the Fire Lord. You'll let us go back over to the edge of that rock there to the south, and then we'll let your brother go and he'll come back to you."
"No," Katara said. "We'll make the switch here. Otherwise you could just take my brother with you anyway."
The girl glared. "We don't want him. We'll let him go—it's you who can't be trusted. But if you try to follow us after that—we will kill the ashmaker."
Katara hesitated. "Okay. We'll do it your way. Just don't try anything."
Katara raised her hands, and Zuko rose a little higher. He drifted forward, and for a moment, she held him just in front of her, obscuring her view of Sokka, but blocking the girl's view of her. She breathed, slow and deep.
A sound escaped the girl as she started to say something—and Katara lunged.
Zuko collapsed to the ground as suddenly Katara stood feet from where Sokka knelt, both hands in front of her, gripping the liquid inside his arm with all her might.
"Aang—" she said with effort. "Get—the other—one—"
She heard noise behind her, earth rising and falling, blasting flames, but she couldn't afford to turn to look. Instead, she gripped Sokka's arm, pulling it toward her.
Sokka gasped in pain, his arm trembling violently as they warred for control. Katara pulled the blade a centimeter from the shallow cut in his throat, enough that it wouldn't gouge him by accident again, but there his arm hovered, as the girl, bent double, face white with fury and effort, fought to hold on.
"Let—" Katara said through her teeth, "him—go—"
"Never," hissed the girl. She had both hands raised, pulling against Katara with all the force she could muster, inching the blade back toward his neck. If Katara lost control now—the slightest lapse—it would go straight through his windpipe and the spinal cord, and—
Katara felt the storm that had been building inside her ever since facing Aang swell, heavy and dark. And she let it—the anger, the fear, every emotion that could mingle with the power of the moon, that could give her more strength.
Carefully—so carefully—she split one of the fingers from one hand, then a second one, and focused instead, not on Sokka's arm, but on the girl. She slipped inside, and, as she had done facing Aang, went straight for the heart.
The girl gasped. She staggered back a step, and collapsed to her knees. And yet—her hands hadn't moved. Fingers still belt, still holding onto Sokka's arm with all her might.
Katara took a slow step forward. She stood over where the girl knelt—she was close enough to Sokka that she could have reached over and tried to pry his arm from his neck herself, but she didn't dare relinquish her grip even for a moment.
"Let him go," Katara whispered.
The girl's face was white in the silver darkness, her skin almost blue—Katara moved from her heart, seizing instead the lining of her lungs, stopping them from moving. Still the girl held on, fingers like claws, even bent almost double, unable to breath. What about the water in her head, in her brain? Would stopping that knock her out, long enough to get control of the situation? Or—would it kill her?
"Let him go," Katara whispered again, and this time, it was almost a plea.
The girl's eyes rolled back in her head—and suddenly the boomerang came away from Sokka's throat with force. His arm swung around, and the boomerang flew from his hand. The blade skittered along the stone, finally coming to a stop some distance away. For the first time, Katara registered Zuko, who had been crouched down in front of Sokka, hands trying to pry the weapon away, and he had to raise an arm to shield his face. The blade had missed giving him another scar by inches.
Katara doubled over, gasping, sweat pouring down her face. She raised her eyes to the girl's prone form—only to see that the girl was still conscious.
The girl rolled hard to one side, on hands and knees. She wobbled unsteadily a second, then hurled herself forward, launching herself up into a run. Katara raised a limp hand after her to stop her, to pull her back, but she was weak, and the girl, tears of pain and rage pouring down her face, hurtled toward the lake.
"Aang—" Katara tried to call. But Aang was on the far edge of the rock clearing—he had formed a wall of earth to push the other waterbender back, to ensure he couldn't come close enough to interfere, and when Aang turned his head back, the girl was already diving headfirst into the waters.
Katara finally forced her weak legs to work, staggering forward after her. She waded into the lake, then, holding her breath, ducked her head beneath the surface. With a wave of her fingers, she formed an air bubble over her mouth and face. She looked this way, then that.
The waters below were black as pitch, and she couldn't see anything. However, as she hovered there, the pressure over her head seemed to lessen, and as she directed her eyes upward, she saw the water rising, up toward the sky.
As the water disappeared around her head, Katara looked up to see Aang hovering in the sky, his eyes once again alight with power. The water was sucked upward, like a vacuum from one of the Fire Nation refineries, a twister of water, and she had to form a binding of ice to hold herself to the earth. She noticed the last waterbender laying pinned to the ground some distance away in earth.
Katara's eyes scanned the rising water, before shifting to the lake bed below.
It was oddly stoney, devoid of fish or other life. And yet, as her eyes scanned for the flash of blue of the girl's water tribe clothing, her eyes fell on something dark, at the very edge. Katara slid forward, carefully, and that was when she saw it.
The dark spot plunged downward into the earth, a natural tunnel, no doubt leading down to the water-filled, interconnected caverns below.
"No," she breathed. "No."
She was already racing forward, when Zuko's head appeared over the edge of the lakebed. "What is it?" he called. "What happened?"
"I'm going after her!" Katara shouted. She pulled her hand, and the ice beneath her turned to a slide, pulling her straight toward the tunnel mouth.
"Wait!"
She heard the sound of feet sliding on wet stone behind her, and glanced over her shoulder to see Zuko slipping down the muddy embankment, half tripping over piles of worn stone and muck. "You can't! You'd have to go alone—Aang can't leave the rest of the waterbenders here. She could get the drop on you."
Katara clenched a fist, ice slide hovering over the dark mouth of the tunnel. "I have to. She could lead us right to Azula!"
Zuko shook his head rapidly. "That's even worse. Then you'd be outnumbered. We need to figure out what we're going to do with the others—that's the important thing right now." He hesitated, then added, "And… I think Sokka's going to need you."
Katara hesitated. She wanted to argue—Azula couldn't use her firebending around the girl, which surely eliminated most of any advantage she might have, plus with the moon still high, Katara was still at her strongest. But she was suddenly so tired, she couldn't seem to think—and Azula probably would be ready for her, have already thought of a way to sneak up on her from behind. And it was true, Sokka might need healing right now.
Katara sagged. "...Okay." She drew the water slide back, in Zuko's direction. She formed a small platform in front of her, and Zuko stepped onto it with muddy boots. She slowly circled her arms, and they rose back up, until the ice slide had brought them back to the bank. She let the water collapse back to the ground, then turned her eyes up to Aang.
The white light faded from his eyes, and the twister of water collapsed back to the lake, sending a white spray shooting out in all directions. The water settled as Aang's feet tapped back against the ground.
Katara could feel him watching her, but she turned away. Her eyes fell on the place where she had left Sokka. He was doubled over in place, clutching his arm.
Her heart beating in her throat, Katara started forward, but an unfamiliar voice called out her name, drawling and sardonic. She found her eyes turning automatically.
"Katara," said the voice again, and she realized it was the stringy boy, the last one captured. Unlike the taller one, who had been caught in stone standing up, he was on his back on the ground, the stone encasing his chest and arms from below as though it had grown over him like vines. "Master Pakku's favorite."
Katara knew she had to get to Sokka to make sure he was okay, but she squinted through the moonlight anyway. She could just make out his face—and suddenly she blinked.
"Now you recognize me," he said. "I trained with Master Pakku, same class. But I guess I wasn't as memorable as you." He added, "You know, the master would be proud, if he could see you. You were the strongest of us then—and you're still the strongest now. Good for you."
Katara stared back at him. She didn't say anything—instead she just turned her back on him, hurrying away toward Sokka.
She crouched down next to where Sokka knelt, far from where the waterbenders were being held. She stretched out a hand for his arm, water already hovering in the air. "Sokka, let me see it. Maybe I can—"
As her eyes fell upon it, a sharp breath escaped her. His entire forearm was mottled in bruises, purple and black from elbow to his wrist. "Oh," she gasped, hand to her mouth. "Sokka…"
"Eh," he said through a grimace. "I've—had worse. I can live without an arm. It's my head I really wanted to keep—need it for talking—and eating."
Katara couldn't smile, could only stare at the way he gripped his bad arm with his good one, his face pale as ash. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I nearly got you killed. I just—I couldn't let them take Zuko, and I had to come up with a plan, but she was stronger than I thought, and—"
Sokka forced himself to relax, putting up his good hand. "You don't… have to explain anything. I wouldn't have let them take Zuko either." He added, "Less talking, more healing."
Katara hesitated, staring down at the arm. Then she swirled her hand, until it was coated in the water from the nearby air, and carefully pressed it to his forearm.
A hiss of pain escaped between his teeth, and she flinched back automatically, before she touched it again, even more carefully than before. The water glowed, and hummed.
Everything was suddenly strangely quiet, but for the hum. Aang was knelt down over by Appa, rubbing the bison's fur reassuringly as he drew out each of the darts in turn. The waterbenders remained imprisoned a distance away, while Zuko stood by the lake, arms folded across his chest as if in deep thought.
"You did good," Sokka said into the quiet. "I hope you know that."
Katara stared down at Sokka's arm. She had already known just by looking at it, but she couldn't heal this, not really. Burns and cuts were easy—they were on the surface. But she could never seem to reach the internal injuries that ran deeper. Maybe there were techniques that would have allowed her to, but she had never studied them.
Tears stung her eyes, and she let go of his arm and threw her arms around his neck.
"I thought you were going to die," she choked. "I should have—come up with a better plan—"
Sokka patted her back awkwardly. "It's okay. And you were never going to come up with a better plan than I'd have come up with. I'm the idea guy of this team. But, you did good for you."
Katara choked out a laugh, and she couldn't even be irritated at Sokka's normal condescending asides. She let go, sitting back on her knees, quickly wiping her eyes.
A light crunch on the stone beside her made her glance up briefly.
"Um," Zuko said, fidgeting with his hands. "I hate to ask this. But Appa's still down, and he's not going to be able to fly for a while. But I… want to go get my mother."
"Toph will bring her back in the morning if we just wait," Sokka pointed out.
"I know," Zuko answered, looking down. "I just—I want her back with us. With me." His eyes shifted back to Katara. "I know about where the entrance is, I think. But you're the only one besides Aang who could take me there fast enough, and Aang has to stay here to make sure the waterbenders don't escape."
Katara was so tired—her head and shoulders felt like the iron ore from one of Toph's training exercises. But she knew he was right, she was the only one who could take him, and she could understand him wanting to have his mother back in his sight as soon as possible.
"Okay," she said, slowly climbing to her feet.
"Fine," Sokka said, rolling his eyes. "I guess my arm can wait until you get back. It feels a little better."
Katara hesitated, not sure how to explain. Eyes down, she said, "I can't… heal it. What I just did will take some of the pain away for a little while, but—I'm sorry. It should heal on its own, but it will take time."
"Oh." Sokka looked down at his arm, purple and swollen, which he had gone back to cradling with his good hand. He sighed. "Well, I guess I won't be throwing any boomerangs for a while. On the bright side, that means more time for eating. Tell the Fire Lord we deserve a giant banquet when we get back, won't you?"
Katara gave a half smile, though she found she couldn't look at him anymore. She wouldn't tell him, but in some ways, having him tell her she had good well made her feel worse.
Katara approached Aang, though she went the longer way around, keeping her distance from the waterbenders. She noticed Aang had undone the earth scoop he had used to capture three of them earlier, forming instead three short stone pillars, which locked their arms and legs into place, yet left their heads visible so they could breathe.
"Aang," she said, stopping a little ways from Appa's side. "We're going to… go get Toph and Zuko's mother. We'll be back."
"Okay," he said. His eyes were still focused on Appa, and he didn't look up.
She stood there for a moment, shifting from foot to foot, not sure what she was waiting or hoping for, before at last she turned away. She raised her hands once again, and a long stream from the lake rose toward them, folding outward like a carpet. She froze a platform just beneath her feet, leaving a space in front of her for Zuko. She gestured for him to come kneel in front of her, and he did, his back to her.
Katara swayed unsteadily for a moment, then closed her eyes, summoning back the last of her strength. She circled her arms, and they took off across the stone, as she tried not to think of everything she had just done.
A/N: Whew, longer chapter this time, and an important one. I always struggle to remember all the pieces to take into account when first trying to write slightly bigger fights, so definitely quite a few revisions on this one. (For the first draft, I wrote the entire fight out in detail, then on a later beta read, wrote a note to myself asking what Appa was doing, since in that version he wasn't even mentioned. Forgetting Momo is one thing… but Appa?)
That's it for this one! Next chapter is a tough one in many ways, be ready. There will probably be a bit of a longer delay than normal before it comes out, as I want to get a little further with editing the next few chapters first.
Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you in the next one!
Posted 7/7/23