(Part 5) Chapter 6 – Separated from my House by a Row of Headstones
Zuko exhaled against his injuries and felt the waning of the last of his adrenaline. They huddled on the back of the great owl-spirit, wary of the fantastic height to the desert floor below, as wind whipped past during their flight southward. Toph was unconscious held awkwardly in Jet's lap. Azula held her face stubbornly away from them and Katara trembled in his arms. The air was cold and thin.
Zuko looked down. The last of the swarm of buzzard-wasps was past and they proceeded at speed. Below, the sand raced by in the early tints of a sunrise until they reached the edge of vegetation. Gradually and then all at once they were above farmland, green and thriving, and the humidity was apparent even at their altitude on the back of the owl. It wasn't much longer before they arrived at the newly risen city and Zuko did quick math in his head, astonished at the distance they'd covered in what seemed less than an hour. They were set down before the steps of the library and dismounted, Jet carrying Toph in his arms.
Wan Shi Tong ruffled his feathers, shrugged his wings back, then turned to address them. "The residents will give you medical treatment for now. The earthbender, in particular, is in a bad state. Her leg has been snapped quite thoroughly and without the skilled touch of a waterbending healer rather promptly she might never walk again. Your animals will be brought by the servants, though it will take time for their crossing the distance on foot."
As the light grew into morning he could see the extent of their injuries. Toph's face was white and bloodless and her leg dangled at a bad angle. Zuko grimaced and looked away. He asked the spirit, "How did you know we needed help?"
"I know ten-thousand things." His tone was sharp and suddenly he looked angry. Zuko's stomach sank with the same fear as when he'd first met the owl-spirit. "I was told by you that this world was now peaceful. You have lied to me."
"It's not a lie," he said in a tone weaker than a Firelord should be able to manage, injured or not. An angered spirit was intimidating on a level beyond mortal reasoning. "We are at peace. This is an isolated group of criminals."
The owl clacked his beak hard enough to make Zuko flinch. "That group has been predating upon my new followers since this city was raised! They have harrowed the flocks who have gathered around the library and come to tend the fields and orchards, they have taken scores of them away while in pilgrimage here or already in residence. I am the guardian of the library and will not be put to use as a soldier in a human's conflict. You promised me peace."
"You'll have peace, we're already working to resolve this problem." As he pleaded, Katara, Jet, and even Azula were too stunned to speak.
"You were nearly slaughtered by their hand. Fool! They knew of your coming for weeks. Word arrived here many days ago that the Firelord had taken to field with only a handful of companions and was warring with the crime groups. I have rescued you this once only because I am still vested in your promise to me," he said, anger clear in his voice and seeming to tinge even the surrounding atmosphere of daybreak in the oasis city. "If you do not resolve this conflict and bring about this promised peace, I will take action and sever the red string of fate that binds you and her. Those rites were sacred and you have not honored them."
If those binding ties were severed, they would both die and in such a way that they would not even reincarnate but completely cease to exist for eternity. "Please," said Katara weakly. "We're trying. Give us time."
He glared down in that uninterpretable blackness of gaze and shivered, every feather ruffling against the next like chainmail. "I have already rescued you. Here is your time, now use it wisely and fulfill your pledge."
"We will."
Glowering once more in his repressed anger, he then turned to retreat into the library, stalking up the stairs to the held-open doors which permitted even his large form. After his passing they closed again with a firmness that promised he was not to be disturbed. A fox-servant slunk up the steps and pressed his front paws against the doors, then tacked a piece of paper held in his teeth to the wood. It read, in flowing black ink, 'Closed for the day.' He retreated down the stairs in fear and agitation and disappeared into the increasing morning business of the city with a last flick of his white-tipped tail vanishing behind a camellia bush.
Zuko exhaled. "Katara, are you okay?"
"I'm fine for now. Let's get inside and I'll look over Toph."
Human residents thronged the streets, giving the library a wide berth for the time being. An innkeeper appeared at the street and introduced herself, then she and her husband helped them all to lodgings. "Don't worry about payment, just tend your injuries and recover. The great spirit is in a foul mood."
"Fowl mood," spat Jet irreverently. "Damned pigeon-hawk." He was himself bloodied-over but carried Toph protectively in his arms and laid her in a clean bed in an upstairs room. "Have water brought," he told the innkeeper. "Katara, don't worry about the rest of us. I'm not a stranger to first aid and she's the worst off by far. Sorry. I should have noticed the tracks were too clean, like they were laid out to be obvious. I take responsibility for this."
"You couldn't have known," Zuko assured him. "You did find them for us, as difficult as that task was. This is Azula's fault."
"Mine?" Her voice was barely above a whisper and she was holding herself strangely, leaning against a wall nearby turned away from them. With her loose clothing he couldn't tell what injuries she might have had but her posture made it clear she didn't want their help in tending them.
Zuko wanted to curse but kept his voice down as the innkeeper brought in water and Katara dutifully sat down to begin. "I told you already, you compromised our position by firebending at those ships. Why is it you're such a genius in every other situation but when I need to rely on you, you find the stupidest, most amateur mistake to blunder into? We would have been better off if you were still caged in that cell."
His sister scoffed and kept her expression haughty. "You're welcome for saving you. Now, as pleasant as being scolded by my prodigal brother is, I want to rest. I trust I can have a private room?" she asked, raising her voice loud enough for the innkeeper to know she was being addressed.
"Of course," said the distraught woman in a tone of stress and she showed Azula off down the hall. His sister limped after her, still pressing her arm to her side.
"Unbelievable," he muttered. He told Jet, "I can take care of my own injuries. Let's all get some sleep. Sorry, Katara, are you okay for now?"
"I'm fine, go ahead." She sounded like she was crying, and Zuko went and knelt beside her, then brushed hair from her cheek as there was nothing else he could do at that moment to comfort her when her skills were needed so urgently. "What happened to her?"
"It's true she could see when she was in contact with the structure, but they didn't let her get more than a glance like that. We walked into a trap. Azula had taken the position next to her, and she went over when we heard Toph scream—that must have been when her leg was broken. I don't know what happened after that, I left it to Azula and had my own problems. Will she be okay, can you fix it?"
"I can try. I'm not injured, don't worry. Just a little shaken up." She was trembling as she cried but stubbornly kept the healing water at hand pressed to the injury.
He left so she could focus and took the room indicated to him. The city was stonework in an old style of architecture, reminiscent of the temple his father had been killed in, but like attesting to the desert's reversal and marking a new era they'd filled every bit of space with plant-life. His room, a small but comfortable bedroom without much decoration, had a dozen houseplants crammed into every free space. Vines flowed around the windowframe framing the daylight. He sat at the edge of the bed and tried to calm himself down enough to check his own status. Thoughtfully enough the woman had left medical supplies for them and said a doctor would be brought soon. Zuko didn't think he could stay awake that long. He laid down atop the thin blanket and felt sleep overcome him.
At a touch he jumped, his mind still in the previous fight. The doctor flinched. "Sorry to wake you, but I've treated the others already," he said. He was a small man with a polite manner of speech and an unfortunate scar visible at his collar which hinted of a large extent across his shoulder and chest. Burn marks, of course. My nation's handprint. He disrobed and let himself be tended, flinching at the sting of chemicals to the lacerations. "Did you check on the young woman with short hair? My wife, the waterbender, was attending her."
"Her hands are better treatment than mine," he explained as he wrapped the bandages around his upper arm. Blood already stained into the gauze through the ointment he'd applied. "She's unconscious from shock, I'd say, with a break like that. The bone that runs through the thigh has a large supply of bloodflow to it and a number of major nerves. A break there is one of the most painful and difficult to recover from, but your wife seems to be highly skilled. I'm not familiar with the limitations of waterbending, but under traditional medicine her outlook wouldn't be good. She'd be off her feet for several months, at minimum, if she even could recover. I suppose waterbending might speed it up, but she shouldn't be stressed too far after this."
"I see," he said, and braced himself for another round of stitches to come. If only I had two of Katara, he thought as he bit into a provided cloth trying not to groan.
"The other woman," said the doctor as he worked the needle, "I suppose that's your sister? You resemble each other with those golden eyes. After your wife finishes with the young lady, you ought to look at her. She had a lot of internal bleeding, which unfortunately I can't do much about."
He took the cloth out to reply in surprise, "Azula did?"
"She's almost as bad as the younger girl. Her ribs are broken, wrist sprained, and she has a few other injuries, but what had me concerned was the blow she took to the abdomen. It's hard to say for now but she should be monitored. If there's swelling or fever it's a bad sign."
"She didn't tell me she was injured."
He didn't have a response to that, but hemmed professionally and finished his work, conducted to the letter. Zuko was glad for it as it seemed Katara was going to be busy for a while to come. When the man left he got up and limped out to the hall, then tried to remember which room they had been in. He knocked and heard Katara's voice call to enter. "Katara? The doctor just finished with me. He's heading out for the time being. How is everything here?"
She was seated at Toph's bedside holding the vial of oasis water in her hands, stroking the crystalline side contemplatively. Toph, tucked under the blanket, was still unconscious. "Zuko, what should I do?"
He furrowed his brow. "We're a long way from the oasis and this isn't over yet."
"I know, but Toph is… She's already blind. If she can't even walk it's just too much." It was clear from her voice she'd been up the entire time he'd napped. It was afternoon and the light was shining from the opposite direction than when they'd taken the rooms that morning. Her eyes were red from crying.
Zuko put his hand over his face and thought. "Listen. The doctor said Azula is pretty bad off. If that's the case… Is there enough water for both of them?"
"No. Only one. This oasis water works differently, it operates under principles I can't well control. When I used it on Aang I could sense a higher power working through me, guiding me. Once I use the water on someone it will be absorbed into them as it spreads out through their body. It brings everything into harmony."
"I hate to say it, but save it for now and let's see later. You should make a decision after getting some sleep. Do you want a meal brought?"
"Yeah," she replied. "Maybe food will do me good." She put a hand over her belly like she was nauseous. "My room is the door next to this one."
"Let's eat and think it over, but I want you to get rest soon." He walked to her and took the vial, then laced the cord over her head so it was secure. Hanging at her chest in the shadow made between them, he thought he could see a faint glimmer of light threading through the oasis water. He stroked her hair and held her against him. "I'm sorry this hasn't gone well."
She shuddered. In a small voice she replied, "Being Firelord is dangerous, after all."
He thought of that potential still locked into the dragon's egg, which was solid as stone lying inert back at the royal palace. If only my forefathers hadn't murdered them all to the brink of extinction, what protection they could have granted us now. If only they could know how vulnerable they've left their descendants. Once, in gentler times, dragons had accompanied the royal family. How he should have liked the masters at his side then. "Are you okay?"
Pressing her face into his chest, she began crying in answer. He held her as she vented her distress and he tried his best to make her feel safe when he himself didn't feel he could ensure her safety at all.
The owl-spirit was awaiting an answer with grudging patience and the buzzard-wasps had scattered but not finished off the merchants, who were used to fending off their kind and would only be temporarily put-off. After their loss it was probable they would reinforce their numbers and call in allies from among their network, and he doubted that easy rescue would be granted a second time. If Katara's death didn't come at the hands of the traffickers, then the owl-spirit himself might render it.
The same bond he'd been so happy to share with her was now looped around her neck, a crimson thread he himself couldn't even see much less reach to untangle from her. Somehow I have to solve this. There has to be a way to defeat them.
#
Sleep would have solved so much for him then, it might have cured the migraine and fog at least, but Jet lied awake in late afternoon cursing the hours between him and nightfall. His internal clock had been dragged back and forth through the desert mission, something he could have handled with ease when he was younger but the ability of which now eluded him at twenty-three. The soup had long gone cold and a plate of winter melon beside it didn't look appetizing. He threw himself out of bed and began pacing again, each step sending agony through his injuries. He thought of Katara, then, her gentle touch he'd never fully appreciated at those times he'd received it. I scuffled with that firebender and then, after the injury in the papermill his sister gave me, I got up and asked for more, like I was spitting in Katara's face.
Memories of that night were disjointed. Heedless and arrogant, he chased her through the streets of the Lower Ring, sure he could do something, sure he wasn't a child anymore and he didn't have to watch another place he called home burn down. His jiang proved insufficient. Despite being a small woman, she'd not been helpless in direct combat and could dodge and parry well enough even without firebending to give him consternation, and then, when her delight with the novelty faded, her mind turned to escape from the city with the Avatar packed onto a freight train and her aim to meet her co-conspirator in the harbor, she'd turned the tide of battle with no warning more than a glint in her eye.
Fire. Blue flames spread between the buildings, rendering Jet a child again helpless as his family-
He'd remembered agony and fury, a struggle demarcated in heartbeats, each of which could have been his last, until help arrived. He prayed at that time for the Dai Li to save him, and they did. Then he was dropped into a new hell and recruited into a plot that would kill the woman he loved. Each day he swallowed his pride and his rage until he was left an empty soldier, marching along by only momentum with the sting of her rejection at his ear. Alone with his former saviors, former peers, and new captives locked in the bowels of that ship, they'd crawled across the ocean with his guts at his lips. How he hated ships, but compared to the fire it was tolerable to empty his stomach over a railing. After those violent upheavals he checked his belly over, seeing if his organs were all still in his abdomen, then laughed in delirium at his own stupidity while the Avatar worried after him.
Nothing compared to the blue fire. That was what had doomed him in the fight with the beetle-headed merchants. He remembered the sword in his hands, when he still had a battle-plan regardless of the ambush, he felt it was under his control even then until that burst of blue flames in his peripheral vision took him back to Ba Sing Se. Then there was pain, blood, and confusion, and always the blue fire omnipresent. The skin of his scars tightened, wrapping every part of his body, and his stomach was on the ground in a stream of vomit with sweat loosening his grip on the hilt impairing his blocks. It would have been over if not for the swarm.
His wrist bumped against the soup bowl, which against his prediction still retained warmth. He flinched and swept his arm out. It flew and shattered against the wall. Jet, on his feet with the chair thrown to the floor, panted with sweat at his neck. "Jin. What have I done?"
He crawled back to the bed guilty as a dog and put the blanket over his head, trying to huddle in the shallow darkness.
I'll be damned sooner than ask for booze while Katara is working, but nothing else lets me sleep anymore. The blurry heaviness of insomnia grew over him, chewing on his skull like a scavenger on carrion.
#
Zuko implored her, "You should really give yourself a break, Katara. Please. Go for a stroll, at least. Sitting here staring at her isn't doing you any good." He was in borrowed clothing of earth-tones, which set apart that dragon-like gold of his eyes for being unbordered by the usual Fire red garments. She raised a hand to his cheek, stroking his hair and remembering how it felt kneeling at the oasis being guided on how to fade what shouldn't have been possible to fade, that angry red that had framed his left eye for so long. After all that, in the grass beside the two gods in the koi pond, she'd come only as far as softening it. He was satisfied with that, but she wasn't, and she thought the same fate would come to Toph's injury if she continued as she was using plain water—something that would hinder her for life, a terrible deprivation she could merely soften the edges of.
Azula, in the other room, had been unable to get out of bed for the last three days. After arriving she'd quickly weakened, leaving her and the doctor at a loss. The foxes had brought them precious herbs grown in the library's interior gardens and that was perhaps the only thing keeping her alive. As for Toph, medicine could keep infection from blooming but nothing could mend a snapped femur. They would need to make a decision soon. Zuko's eyes were pleading and she felt bad for worrying him so much.
"Fine, but come with me," she said. In truth she was still terrified that the merchants might be nearby, as it would be obvious to them where they'd fled to. The image of the owl-spirit in the sky was unmistakable. Zuko sensed her meaning and took up his dao scabbard. As they passed the rooms of Jet and then Azula, both were perfectly quiet, though the residents were certainly inside. Jet wasn't speaking to anyone since they'd arrived. He hadn't left and the staff had not brought him alcohol, so he was certainly not drinking, but Katara didn't think that quite meant he was well. She and Zuko descended the stairs and went into the street.
It was a gentle afternoon. It should have been winter, but the climate there was pleasantly warm and the town, humid and ample in shade, didn't scorch as the desert had but glowed in pale blush. Even more so than when the new city had first been raised by the owl-spirit, foliage and vines covered over every foothold with blissful fragrance of flowers which shouldn't have been in season and full-canopied trees of summer green. The people who had volunteered to settle it, mainly refugees and the poor, were thriving. Everyone had a chance to carve out their own stake in new economic opportunities and the fields were blessed with abundance. Wan Shi Tong had permitted them to take cuttings from his personal gardens and they'd propagated rare species and medicinal herbs of great value. Saffron, precious and valuable, took well to the climate. Residents used it generously and the local cuisine was laced with its subtle sweetness and golden hue. If the pace kept up the library oasis was set to become the most prosperous city in the world, but that depended on whether they could stop the merchant group from destroying it in revenge for their meddling in business. If the owl-spirit came to think humanity was, after all, hopeless, he might himself sink it back under the sands and withdraw from the mortal world for good.
Walking beside her, Zuko had the expression of trying to find something to say but not resolving on anything yet. She didn't think she was being fair to him. He should be the more troubled than her because, while he bickered with Azula incessantly, she was still his sister and lay on the verge of death. She hadn't spoken to either of them since Zuko placed the blame on her upon arrival and only grudgingly admitted Katara to attend to her, though her injuries were outside the ability of either she or the doctor.
They went to a teahouse with a private garden. Bamboo, which shouldn't have been able to grow there, surrounded the interior courtyard in vivid green. In the middle of what had been barren desert, the teahouse gave the impression of a dense forest with mist in the air. Zuko passed his judgement: "The sencha here is better than what the innkeeper gave us," and looked momentarily content in a manner he'd inherited from Iroh. At that moment they could have been in another world, far and sheltered from all their problems, and she liked that he could relax for a moment. Dwelling on the decision hadn't yielded anything to her yet and she tried to let her mind clear, hoping an answer would come once she stopped chasing after it.
Breeze brought the perfume of camellia blossoms and ruffled the bamboo leaves. In the shelter at their floor a fox watched them passively. His eyes were the same gold as Zuko's.
"He's done a lot for us," Katara said. It had no preface and Zuko didn't follow her meaning. She turned to the side in her seat and reached a hand down with a cluster of rice-cake in her palm. Seeing this gesture, the fox paced over and she felt his whiskers against her skin as he gingerly took it in his teeth. "Wan Shi Tong. He wants to help us, humanity, I mean. There must be a reason he stuck around for hundreds of years even after the burial of the library. He was waiting for a sign from us, an opportunity to grant us trust. Why else hadn't he simply departed to the Spirit World once and for all?" The fox grinned contently and rubbed against her arm in a manner not quite like a cat and not truly canine. His pointed ears gave way softly like velvet as he rubbed against her leg. "They remember us."
Zuko wasn't so convinced. He took a ricecake as well and held it out, but the fox hesitated to go to him, leaving him to wait with it extended in an awkward position. "He seemed mad enough to me."
"I think we should ask for his assistance. He can't solve our problems for us, but he probably knows something that can help."
He sighed like he was resigning to it. "Alright, we can try, but I really do not think he likes me." Having said so, he looked back to the fox as he paced over and sniffed at the treat in his palm, and Zuko smiled when it was taken. "Does he know another medicine?"
"No," she replied, "I don't think that's it. He's already sent us what medical assistance he had to give. If we can solve this on our own, I think we can go to him to inquire about a next step. I think he's waiting for us to resolve this before he can give us further guidance."
He sat up. "Does that mean you made a decision?"
"Yes," she said. The fox finished with the rice-cake and rubbed Zuko's wrist affectionately, then meandered off back towards the base of the bamboo. Upon entering he seemed to vanish, though the garden bed was only a few feet deep. "There's only one solution we can live with."
They took their time in returning. She was confident, but that didn't mean she was enthusiastic to cement her choice. Evening spotted across the roof of the inn with warming hues of the approach of sunset. Toph, in her room, was awake for the first time and the two sat down in chairs to ask her how she felt.
"Could be better," she replied. There was good energy in her tone, and the doctor had already brought her a preparation that would manage the worst of the pain, a substance that came from a certain flower and was medicinal in small doses but mustn't be relied on for too long or an addiction would form. "Listen, I don't want you feeling sorry for me. I miscalculated and ended up this way. That's on me. So you can stow that patronizing sympathy, Sweetness."
"What happened back there?"
She raised her arm and made a tapping gesture with her finger. "They let me get one touch on the brick structure—just one, and that was it. They tossed me back with sandbending before I could ground myself. I pulled on the bricks to send them collapsing but it was aimless destruction as I couldn't see where they were or aim properly. Then one of them," she said, then trailed off and gestured to her leg. "They were going to kill me, but then there was sudden heat wrapping all around the area and the attackers were driven off. I didn't know if it was Azula or Zuko at first, but when she was injured I heard her voice clearly and knew. Is she okay, by the way? You both sound fine."
Katara looked to Zuko before answering. "Well, no. She isn't."
Toph, her other hand surely on the bedframe under the blankets, could sense the extent of it from her voice or perhaps heartbeat. "Sorry," she said. "Your healing water?"
Zuko answered, "The regular stuff isn't doing the job. The fancy stuff is a one-use item. It's either you or her."
She held a hand up without even hesitating. "Use it on her."
Katara asked, "Are you sure? I'm doing what I can, but like this you won't be able to walk, let alone earthbend, for quite some time."
"The doctor was here earlier. He mentioned crutches. Listen, I'm used to finding alternative ways to get around as it is." Her tone was cavalier, but then she paused to listen to what only she could hear. Zuko smoldered quietly furious and Katara stood up and pulled his arm to take him into the other room with her. They sat on her bed to speak privately.
He bounced his leg in agitation. "Azula doesn't deserve it. We should use the water on Toph. I don't care what she says—she doesn't know Azula like I do."
Katara took his hand in hers and said, "Zuko, I know she hurt you. She lied to you, she tried to kill you, she said terrible things to you in that papermill and in the prison. But she's trying really hard, now. She received this injury from trying to save Toph. If we let her die, I think we'll come to regret it. Is this how you want it to end between you two? Can you live with it?"
He leaned with his elbows on his knees so she couldn't see his face. "Even as a young kid, she was a monster. She used to throw rocks at turtleducks and shove her friends to the ground while they were playing. Every other word from her mouth was a lie and she took sadistic pleasure in it all." Katara waited for him to think it through. It was true she couldn't imagine how conflicted his feelings must have been, but she knew him and what choice he would make. It took several minutes of chewing his frustration away before he sat up. "You're sure? The owl isn't going to wait for us to take a trip to the North Pole as the merchants will make their move before then, and someone else might get injured before this is over."
"It's time for it to be used."
They returned to the room. Toph sat trying to look brave while they informed her, and she told them to stop dilly-dallying and pointed to the door.
In Azula's room, as she glared with her face turned away like an injured cat, Zuko waited nearby while Katara took out the oasis water and formed it into that miraculous softly glowing form which emanated warmth and calm, then she held it to her abdomen and began. Azula continued her expression of wordless surprise until the end. She had the face of someone who had already come to terms with their own imminent death only to be granted a last minute curative. As they were leaving, Katara leaning on Zuko's arm wearily, she thought she heard a soft whisper of, "Thank you."
#
Previously he'd known the library as a prison, but upon entering again after a year had passed its beauty was stunning. The lower floor was columned in yew and cedar—trees living and breathing like a forest—and they walked into the lowest level of the central atrium to look upwards through the spiral staircases. The copper dome was closed during the day but opened every night for the stargazers. They'd arrived at the perfect moment. Foxes rushed between their legs and dashed up the staircases. The group waited, watching upwards, until the metallic cranking sound reverberated through the tower. Distantly, through stories and cascades, the night sky bloomed above.
The library was a living part of their city now. Even at that hour people browsed the shelves and meandered through the stories. Comfortable, inviting, and shielded from wind and sun, it was alluring even to those without interest in checking out volumes. Children giggled between the hands of their mothers and fathers as they were walked home to make for bed. The silver threads of the waterfalls poured into the granite pools around the garden.
"Katara, where is the owl?" he asked. She went to the pool and sat at the ledge to dip her hand in and closed her eyes in concentration. That water circulated through the entire structure, by means he couldn't fathom but she could somehow sense, and momentarily she stood to guide them.
In a lower floor they made their way to a side room untrafficked by humans. It was calm and quiet there, and he was indeed inside, a book opened on the floor which he wasn't looking at, as if waiting for them. Zuko knelt. He wasn't sure if it was proper, if spirits valued the same debasements that mortal kings did, but he felt it proper. "Wan Shi Tong, we came to request your help."
Toph struggled on her crutches, one leg braced and bandaged immobile, reminding him of his uncle after his injury from the ship's explosion. Azula lent what assistance she could, perhaps feeling guilty that the precious water had been used on her instead. Jet lurked behind them looking like warmed-over death and squinted as if in bright sunlight even in the library's lantern-glow interior. The owl turned to regard them. Zuko shivered as his gaze beat down above him, already fumbling the words he'd practiced and feeling the same terror as if kneeling before his father. He tried to keep his hand on his knee and not deviating to touch his scar. The answer came: "I will not be your soldier, young Firelord."
"Nor would we ask it of you. However, we are lost and don't know where to go from here. Do you know of anything that would benefit us in our situation? If you could grant any advice it would be much appreciated."
He wasn't angry as before, nor impatient, and Zuko felt encouraged. Wan Shi Tong began in a level tone dictated by academic logic, "You are outnumbered and one of your members is unable to bend as she is. The merchants will come wielding greater numbers than before. You are weakened but they shall be strengthened. If you were not victorious in your previous skirmish, you certainly shall not be in the coming." He paused, and Zuko looked up into those dark eyes like an ocean in the night. "The best course of action would be to contract allies."
"We surely have no time for that. It would take us a long time to travel anywhere and won't be able to return with reinforcements until after this city is sacked by them."
He swore there was a note of amusement in his voice as reply. "I suggest you investigate the root cellar." Then he shifted his gaze and Zuko followed. Unmistakably he looked at Azula as he continued, "You already possess the key."
The sudden object of attention, his sister shifted and pressed a hand to her chest but said nothing. Wan Shi Tong turned away and resumed his book as if done with the conversation. Katara pulled his arm and helped him stand again and the group left upon that cue, Toph's crutches tip-tapping against the tile floor piercing-loud in the calmness of the space. They returned to the central hall and inhaled the cleanness of the trees. Zuko asked, "What did he mean by that? I thought this was already the lowest level. And what key could you have?" He looked to his sister, who was uncharacteristically quiet since her healing.
In answer she slipped a necklace from under her shirt, an antique brass key that had been concealed threaded with slim cord. "He must mean this, though I don't know how he knew I had it or what connection it could have to this place."
Zuko was immediately irritated. "What is that? Where did you get it?"
"Father gave it to me, long ago. It was shortly after you had been banished." Her voice blended nostalgia and loss. Her makeup hadn't been applied, not since the battle, and her stance was not as firm. "This is something given to the successor. The Firelord retains his own copy—they came as twins—and father said this is a relic of great importance though seldom used. As he and I were the only ones alive aware of the keys, I suppose his copy might have been buried with him, as I wasn't there to advise otherwise. There are places in the Fire Nation that open to no key but these, and no successful copies had ever been crafted. Even an exact match physically in the same metal and quality will be rejected. No one has ever figured out why. He didn't want to turn this over to Zhao and told me to keep it a secret unless it was needed. In the end I don't think he ever trusted Zhao. Nor, apparently, you, Brother, if he'd truly never mentioned it to you."
"Great, so my own father didn't trust me," he spat. "What is it? We're not in the Fire Nation."
"It's a key, Dumb-dumb. The bird told us to look in the root cellar and I assume that means there must be a lock there it will open." She sighed as if put out to explain the obvious. "Maybe your girlfriend can tell us where that might be."
"My wife," he corrected.
"Ah, the new Firelady. Funny, I don't recall being present at such a wedding. My own brother became a man and I wasn't informed."
"Stop playing around, you've surely heard the news by now. There's work to do." He tried to take a nicer tone to ask, "Katara, do you know a lower level than this?"
Toph answered instead. "There is one." She tapped a crutch against the floor. "Follow me."
Even in that state her ability of sense was prodigious. They followed her small, struggling form in slow progression to a doorway and paused while he tried the handle and found it locked. Below was a dark keyhole in a matching metal as the brass, and Azula walked forth to try her key. A click set his heart racing. She turned the handle and it opened, creaking like it hadn't been moved in a century. A staircase lay dark before them. She returned the key around her neck and placed it under her clothing protectively, then lit a blue flame in her palm and bravely began descent.
Jet lifted Toph in his arms and Katara carried her crutches after them. The five gathered at the bottom with a puzzling situation before them. A labyrinth of thick, twisted treeroots spread out snaking across the ground, forming spiraling tunnels all around them extending as far as they could see by the firelight. It was literally a 'root cellar'. Zuko cursed and began looking around, but everything in all directions looked identical, caves formed by roots dug into the soil. The passageways were human-sized, but there was nothing immediately there and they had no map or directive to choose a way. In the cast of singular blue flame it looked an alien world, and all beyond the flame's reach was darkness.
They sat too astonished to speak on the bare floor of interspersed soil and root. He felt like a fool with no answer, and he resented his father and sister so intensely it was difficult to think on anything else. He hoped Katara, at least, might have more sense at that moment and could cover for him. She paced around and touched her hand to one root or another. They were thick as tree-trunks themselves, as solid as stone, but gave a sense of humidity and throbbing life as well as the infusion of fragrance like a forest floor. Katara asked, "Toph, can you sense anything?"
"For as far as I can feel, it's just roots in all directions."
They were stumped. Some minutes passed as they puzzled at the riddle. Jet squirmed being that close to the blue flame but Zuko didn't have the capacity to mind him. Katara moved around to investigate but nothing was revealed by it. Azula as well had nothing to contribute, and it sounded like she'd been given a key but not shown any access points, not as their father was killed so prematurely. Why should the same key to Fire Nation monuments work as well on a doorway in the middle of the Earth Kingdom, which has lain buried with a spirit for centuries? This place is thousands of years old. Katara eventually came to sit with them as well, abandoning her attempt. He watched the strangely hued little flame bounce in his sister's palm with hopeless despair, thinking they may as well stay in the basement and use it, if nothing else, as a bunker while the city burned. As he watched his sister's fire, his own breath pattern came into alignment with hers through the cadence of the flame. He huffed and turned away from it.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness. In the stillness and the quiet around them, punctuations of soft glow began to form. They danced weightless and gentle, fading in and out ephemerally. Fireflies?
Seated in the dirt cross-legged, he watched the familiar yet out-of-place performance of the insects, if that was what they really were. He couldn't say if it was because their only lightsource was blue fire, but their color seemed off. Hues shifted through the spectrum of all possibilities, blinking into life for only a breath's span before fading, soft and subtle, in a diminutive version of the flame of the dragons.
Toph, her voice awe-stricken and whispering, asked, "What are those lights?"
"What?" he asked in astonishment. "Wait, how can you see them?"
She gazed wide-eyed, her irises a milky green, and she watched the progression of a firefly as it passed before her. "I can see them. They're beautiful."
He felt a chill up his back. "These can't be normal insects. What is this place, what are these?" Zuko stood and tried impertinently to catch one, but it slipped with ease through his fingers. Darkness, then, spread around them, as if all at once all their lights were extinguished. His heart beat, fearing he'd ruined their chances and they were left in desolation without any thread to grasp. Then, one singular light glowed, pulsing through blue and violet and sun-yellow just as the fire of life did. It levitated there, an evanescent pulse as fragile as candleflame in wind, and he was terrified to again try to catch it. Zuko watched the light as his friends slowly climbed to their feet, Jet supporting Toph. Then once they were gathered it began retreating a slow, guiding pace and entered one of the tunnels formed by the roots retaining back the earth. It began down the corridor as all else remained darkness. He announced, "We need to follow it."
Guided by the delicate point of light, they made slow progression over the uneven ground, root and stone and earth packed around them, but unlike the lava tunnel it didn't hold any feeling of terror. The light seemed assuring, though he couldn't imagine where it would take them.
#
A/n:
"Yggdrasill is an immense mythical tree that connects the nine worlds in Norse cosmology. Although translated as Ash it is believed that this tree is likely to have been a Yew."
"In the past Yew trees were used as landmarks, because of their size and longevity, and their dark branches would make them stand out in the landscape. Yew groves planted by the Druids were common by ancient ways, on sacred sites, hilltops, ridgeways and burial grounds."
"It has now been estimated that some English Yews are as much as 4,000 years old."
"The Yew is associated with immortality, renewal, regeneration, everlasting life, rebirth, transformation and access to the Otherworld and the ancestors."
"The Yew is considered to be the most powerful tree for protection against evil."
the-yew-tree/