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Houka 7, Mutsuki 1, Risshun

Yu Dao. 

If Garsai was the crown jewel of the Fire Nation’s colonial enterprise, Yu Dao was where the gold for the circlet was mined and forged. The oldest of the colonies by a wide margin, Yu Dao made up for its distance from the extremely profitable Mo Ce Sea trade through sheer export volume. The hills around the city were rich in iron and gemstones, and the Jade River brought lumber, cotton bales, and clay from distant lands. Porcelain, jewelry, and furniture carrying the stamp of a Yu Dao artisan sold for easily three times the price of equivalent items made in Hu Xin, Tiaoguo, or Kasen City, making the merchant houses of Yu Dao obscenely wealthy. Much of that wealth trickled back to the Capital eventually in the form of taxes and tributes, and it would not be an exaggeration to say that the Fire Army lived or died by weapons and supplies bought with Yu Dao gold.

The Setsujoku had avoided Yu Dao on its way to the North Pole because they had been in a hurry; however, the Quartermaster and the Chief Engineer both cornered Zuko in the officer’s mess with an ultimatum on the third day at sea: stop in Yu Dao, or give up on ever reaching Omashu.

“And why should we stop in the most heavily-guarded city in the colonies?” Zuko demanded. “We might as well turn ourselves in.”

“Because we are low on coal, staple foods, and medicine, for starters,” the Quartermaster replied coolly. “I’d rather not force the crew to choose between starvation and mutiny.”

“We could get those things at any colony port!” Zuko snapped.

“Not cheaply,” the Quartermaster sniffed.

“More importantly, Your Highness,” the Chief Engineer said. “We sustained a lot of damage during the battle which we can’t simply repair ourselves, on top of the extraordinary wear and tear from sailing in the Northern Sea. Either we put up in dry dock and re-plate the hull or patch what we can and overhaul the pumps, on top of repairs to the deckhouse.”

Zuko gritted his teeth, but knew better than to question his officers’ expertise.

“How much time will it take to overhaul the pumps?” he asked.

“Three days, if I can find the parts I need,” the Chief Engineer said unhappily.

“Then draw up a plan and show it to Captain Jee,” Zuko said dismissively. He was getting a headache, and wanted to be alone. “We will discuss this later.”

Zuko stalked off, stumbling a little on the stairs as he stomped down to his room. He considered sending for Jin Hui for a meditation session, but Jin Hui and Taiyou were both still recovering in the infirmary. Instead, he found Sokka waiting for him outside of his door. The Water Tribe boy was examining his fingernails as he leaned against the wall, affecting boredom. Zuko wasn’t fooled, and decided that instead of meditating in his room he’d rather take a turn around the deck.

“Ah, Zuko! Just the man I wanted to—” Sokka began.

“I’m busy!” Zuko snapped, brushing past him.

“Well, excuse me, your princeliness,” Sokka said, jogging after him. “So, a little bird told me that we’re stopping in Yu Dao.”

Zuko stopped in his tracks and glared incredulously at Sokka.

“Have you been spying on me?” he demanded.

“Well, not you, specifically,” Sokka said with a shrug. “Look, I get that we’re buddies now, but—”

“We’re not buddies,” Zuko snarled, continuing down with even more fire in each step. “Stop calling us that. We are allies, nothing more.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Sokka said, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, the point is, this is still a Fire Nation ship and you guys are all Fire Nation. I bet there’s a lot I could learn that would help us fight the actual bad guys.”

“Is that why you’ve been harassing the Master-at-Arms?” Zuko asked acidly, sweeping through the crew mess. It was mid-morning, so only a few off-duty deck sailors were around, chatting and drinking tea.

“I just asked him some questions!” Sokka said. Zuko whirled on him, jabbing him in the chest with his finger.

“The Master-at-Arms is busy,” he growled. “ Everyone on this ship has a job to do. Stop getting in the way!”

“Is that all?” Sokka asked after a beat. “Not even going to threaten to throw me in the brig?”

“I’m considering it!” Zuko yelled, and then stomped out onto the top deck. The sky was overcast, and the wind was cold. Icebergs floated in the distance, and the colonial coast was not yet visible over the southern horizon. Sailors were about clearing frost and salt from the deck and the railings. An enormous red tent had been set up amidships to house the Avatar’s flying bison. Zuko turned right, opting to do a full circuit of the deck before facing that problem in any capacity.

“Anyway, back to what I was saying before,” Sokka said, catching up again. “I’d like to go into the city and do some shopping. There’s a lot of stuff that we might need on Aang’s journey to master earthbending.”

“Why?” Zuko asked, perplexed. “We’re providing you food, shelter, and passage to Omashu, and then you’ll be in the care of Omashu’s ruler. I’m sure they would welcome the chance to host the Avatar and his friends.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” Sokka muttered darkly. Zuko felt there was a story there, one that he deeply did not care to hear about. “Look, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared! Anything could happen, and I’d rather not be caught with my pants down.”

They reached the stern. Zuko paused at the railing, watching the ship’s wake trail off into the rough, slate-gray waves. Sokka came up to lean against the railing next to him, frowning.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked. “You’re more prickly than usual.”

Zuko grimaced and looked away. The way Sokka’s brow furrowed, the way his lips pouted, made Zuko’s heart flutter.

“Don’t pretend that you actually care,” he said.

“Unlike Aang, I can take a hint,” Sokka said, scoffing.

“I just have a lot on my mind,” Zuko said. “Yu Dao is Fire Nation in all but name. There will be soldiers, Fire Nation police, and crown agents. Spies from the Ministry of Secrets will be there looking for dissenters and traitors. It’s completely insane to bring the Avatar within 100 miles of the place, but because of the battle with Zhao we have to. If there was another way to—are you taking notes!?”

Sokka looked up from the notebook he was writing in.

“Yes?” he said. “This is good intel!”

“Let me see that!” Zuko demanded, grabbing the book from Sokka. He held the peasant boy back with his free hand as he looked over the page Sokka had been writing. His scrawl was horrendous, but Zuko had to admire the attention to detail. “You’re very thorough.”

“Thanks, now give it back!” Sokka said, trying to get past Zuko’s guard, unsuccessfully. Zuko turned the pages with his thumb. Sokka’s notes of the Setsujoku and her crew were extensive, and included several doodles of various people and things. Ignoring Sokka’s pleas, he turned a page and saw an entire two-page spread of doodles of himself. They were poor quality, but seemed to show Zuko in various firebending poses.

“Did you watch me at firebending training?” Zuko asked, color rising in his cheeks. He had been practicing in the cargo hold, which was often too warm to do so while fully clothed. To think that he had been observed by Sokka while bare from the waist up, chest heaving, dripping with sweat…

“Like I said, it’s good intel,” Sokka retorted, face flushed in embarrassment. “Uh, the firebending…poses. Could study them for weaknesses.”

Zuko released him, and they stood awkwardly for a second. Sokka held out his hand.

“Can I have my book back now?” he asked.

Zuko tore out the pages of him firebending and incinerated them, letting the ash blow away in the wind. Sokka’s mouth fell open in outrage.

“You—! I had other notes on those pages!” he screeched. Zuko snapped the book shut and thrust it into Sokka’s chest.

“Learn to draw,” he snapped. “Tonight, after the officer’s meeting, I’ll come find you and the Avatar, and we will discuss your wish to go to Yu Dao.”

Zuko stormed off, completing his circuit of the ship. He ignored the Avatar’s tent, yelled at anyone who tried to talk to him or even look at him funny, and made it safely to the comfort of his cabin at long last. He threw himself down on the bed to try to sleep off his head-splitting migraine, but dreams of Sokka’s piercing gaze plagued him.

Sokka remained at the stern of the ship, frowning after Zuko’s huffy departure. He opened his notebook and skimmed through it until he found another full-page spread he had done of Zuko from when he had spied on his weapons training. Looking at the doodles now, they were pretty bad—barely usable to figure out anything about weapon forms, for sure. He bit his tongue and turned to a blank page. He wavered, pencil twirling in agitated fingers.

“Alright, Your Haughtiness,” Sokka said, sitting down with his back against the warm hull. “You want good drawings? I’ll give you good drawings.”

As he drew and redrew stupid Prince Zuko’s stupid face, it occurred to Sokka that becoming invested in this was dangerous. It was an anxious fear, like a caribou yak stranded in the snow being stalked by wolves. His pencil stopped on the edge of Zuko’s scar. He abruptly tore the page out of the notebook, crumpled it up, and threw it into the sea.

“What am I doing?” he moaned, dragging his hands down his face. This was dumb! He was wasting valuable spying time. Picking himself up, he walked with purpose back to Appa’s tent, the better to plot and scheme the afternoon’s skullduggery.

That night, Aang, Katara, and Sokka met Zuko on the bridge in the company of Iroh, Captain Jee, and Lt. Zan. A large brazier had been brought up to help heat the room—several steam pipes had been damaged or destroyed in the battle, so the upper decks of the Setsujoku were quite cold. Everyone stood around the fire, taking a moment to warm their hands before Zuko spoke.

“We’ve considered your request,” he said.

“What request?” Aang asked. He had a flying lemur draped over his shoulder, which purred as he scratched its head absently.

“Your little shopping trip into Yu Dao,” Zuko said. Katara and Aang exchanged confused looks.

“Oh, right, I forgot to tell you guys about that,” Sokka said, feigning innocence.

“You forgot,” Katara said flatly. Zuko’s eye twitched.

“We’re stopping in Yu Dao? Wow!” Aang exclaimed. “Katara, we have to try their candy silk! One time, one of the monks brought back a whole bag of it from Yu Dao! When are we getting there?”

“ We will be arriving there in three days,” Zuko said tersely. “ You, Avatar, will not be joining us.”

“What!?” Aang cried.

“Why not?” Katara asked, frowning. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“I don’t know what it was like a hundred years ago,” Zuko said, ignoring her. “But nowadays, Yu Dao is a wealthy and well-guarded Fire Nation colony. The Avatar would be spotted immediately, and we would all be arrested or killed. It’s too dangerous.”

“Well, why do you get to go?” Aang demanded.

“ I don’t want to,” Zuko snapped. “But we don’t have a choice.”

“The ship has damage that needs to be repaired, and supplies that need to be replenished,” Captain Jee said, cutting in smoothly before Zuko could work himself up into a rage. “We can’t return to Tanebi Port, so Yu Dao is our best and only option. We will all be using false identities while in port to allay suspicion, but there are some things that are just too big to hide.”

“You mean Appa,” Katara said. “Well, Aang can just send him away for a while. He’s used to flying around while we travel on foot.”

“And I can wear a disguise, too! I’ve done it plenty of times. Watch!” Aang whipped out a fake mustache and bent his back like an old man’s, altering his voice to sound older. “Hello! My name is Bonzu Pippinpaddleopsicopolis, and these are my grandchildren, June Pippinpaddleopsicopolis and Ping Pippinpaddleopsicopolis.”

“Ping?” Sokka made a face behind Aang.

“I like it,” Katara snickered. “It’s manly and mature.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Pippinpaddleopsicopolis,” Iroh said with a bow. “And might I say, what a lovely family you have.”

“Uncle!” Zuko yelled. “Don’t encourage him!”

“What?” Iroh said, holding up his hands. “I was only being polite.”

“While I’m sure that you’ve managed to fool a great many enemies with that disguise,” Captain Jee said diplomatically. “It would be a mistake to underestimate the Yu Dao police. You will have to leave us until we’ve left Yu Dao behind.”

“Monkeyfeathers,” Aang cursed.

“How long will we be in town?” Sokka asked, raising his hand. Aang and Katara both shot him identical looks of betrayal. “What? He only said Aang wasn’t allowed, he didn’t say Katara and I couldn’t go!”

“It’s okay, Aang,” Katara said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll keep you company, unlike some butthead brothers I could name.”

“Tui and La, we have stuff we need to buy!” Sokka said. “Chief Arnook gave us some of the gold they looted off the Fire Nation camps—no offense—and it’s not like we’re going to be stopping at another big market anytime soon.”

“You could wait until we get to Omashu,” Katara said.

“Or, I could go shopping now, so that we don’t have to worry about it later,” Sokka retorted.

“Will you both shut up?” Zuko growled. The quarreling siblings fell silent. “We’ll be in Yu Dao for three days. That should be plenty of time for you to get what you need, as long as you promise not to cause any trouble.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Sokka said. Katara snorted.

“You’re new to this group, Zuko, so I’ll let you in on a little secret,” she said. “If you don’t keep an eye on my brother, he’ll spend the entire day haggling with shopkeepers.”

“I’m not that bad!” Sokka cried.

“Oh no?” Katara countered. “Remember that time you went to six fruit stalls just to buy one melonyam?”

“I had to make sure that it was fresh!” Sokka said.

“Enough!” Zuko yelled. “So it’s decided: the Avatar and Katara will both fly the bison somewhere else, and Sokka will have a chaperone while he’s shopping.”

“He never says my name, even though I was his friend first,” Aang muttered, folding his arms and pouting.

“We’re not—! Ugh!” Zuko threw up his hands.

“Where should we go that won’t attract the Fire Nation’s attention?” Katara asked.

“Nowhere near the city,” Captain Jee said. “In fact, the farther away the better. Even nearby islands will likely have a village or lighthouse.”

“Do you have any maps of the area?” Sokka asked. Lt. Zan fetched one, and there were a few minutes of peace and quiet as the trio looked over it. Zuko rubbed his temple hard, and wondered if he would hate himself more for betraying the Avatar and incurring the spirits’ wrath or enduring the constant irritation of his and his friends’ company for the next few weeks.

“How about this one? It’s pretty remote,” Sokka said, pointing to a spot on the map.

“Oh, I know that place!” Aang said. “It’s on a bison migration path. There’s a pretty meadow on top of the mountain.”

“Then how about we go there?” Katara suggested. “We can camp for a few days and then fly back to meet up with the Setsujoku . Who knows, there might even be a flying bison or two left.”

“Sounds great!” Aang said, beaming. “It’s settled. We’ll go camping on Midoriyama Island, and then meet back up with you guys later.”

“Good. Captain, lay in a course that gets us close to Midoriyama Island, and then you can retire,” Zuko instructed. “Lt. Zan, the bridge is yours. I want to know if any Fire Navy patrols hail us in the night.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Lt. Zan said, bowing.

“You’re dismissed,” Zuko said to Aang and the others. “Be ready to go in three days.”

Houka 7, Mutsuki 3, Risshun

It was nighttime when Aang and Katara left the Setsujoku . Zuko and Sokka met with them on the top deck while the Boatswain and a work crew struck Appa’s tent. Sokka hugged them both goodbye.

“Be careful out there,” he said, squeezing Aang tightly.

“I will,” Aang promised. 

“Stay safe,” Sokka said, turning to Katara. “Don’t go wandering off, and keep an eye out for any Fire Nation patrols.”

“Okay, dad,” Katara said, returning his hug fiercely.

“Brat,” Sokka said, and pulled his kid sister in for a noogie. “I’m worried about you both. This is the first time we’ll be separated for so long.”

“Well, we wouldn’t be if you just came with us,” Katara said. “Don’t get into any trouble, okay?”

“I promise,” Sokka said.

“You’d better not let anything bad happen to him,” she said to Zuko, pointing a warning finger at him. Zuko simply nodded, and then turned to Aang.

“When we leave Yu Dao, we’ll sail due south until you catch up to us,” he said. “Avoid any other ships, and stay out of sight. If anyone finds out you’re here, they’ll come looking for you.”

“Stay hidden, got it,” Aang said, and then giggled.

“What?” Zuko demanded.

“You sure are showing us a looooot of concern,” Aang said, waggling his eyebrows. “Almost like we’re your—”

“Stop talking,” Zuko said, lip twitching up slightly. He thrust a scroll into Aang’s hands. “This is a chart of our planned route from Yu Dao. If you miss the meeting time, fly along that path until you reach us. Now get off my ship and don’t get caught.”

“Alright, we’ll get going,” Aang said, shooting Zuko a wink as he and Katara got into the saddle. “Bye, friends!”

“We’re not friends!” Zuko yelled after him. With a crack of the reins, Appa took off, quickly disappearing into the dark night sky.

“You know,” Sokka said, arms folded thoughtfully. “The more you say that, the harder it is to believe.”

“I’d rather kiss an eel hound on the snout than be friends with any of you,” Zuko said. 

“Aw, even me?” Sokka asked with a mocking frown.

“Especially you,” Zuko growled, getting up in his face.

“Well, I don’t want to be friends either,” Sokka retorted. “But we’re stuck with each other. So let’s try to get along, shall we?”

Sokka held out his arm to Zuko, who rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said, clasping Sokka’s forearm. “I’ll try to be nicer, and you try to be less annoying.”

“How can I do that when everything annoys you?” Sokka asked, eyebrow raised.

“You know my officers complain to me whenever they catch you somewhere you’re not supposed to be, right?” Zuko said. “You could start there.”

“Fine, I won’t let them catch me,” Sokka said, walking off.

“That’s not what I meant!” Zuko yelled after him.

“Sorry, can’t hear you!” Sokka called back, disappearing down the forward stairwell. Zuko clicked his tongue, turned on his heel, and went back inside. Sleep came quickly, but he dreamed of long, red-lit metal corridors, hiding from shadowy authority figures, and secret rendezvous with blue-eyed warriors.

Houka 7, Mutsuki 4, Risshun

Sokka was up early, leaning over the starboard bow railing and peering east into the dawn. They were sailing around a chain of barrier islands before making their approach to the city. The sun was rising over distant mountains, and the morning light reflected off the water of the sound, coloring the sails of outgoing fishing boats orange and pink. The Boatswain joined him at the railing.

“She’s quite a sight,” he said.

“Yeah,” Sokka nodded. “When will we be able to see Yu Dao?”

“Not for a while,” the Boatswain said. “Once we round the cape over there, we’ll have to pick up a pilot to bring us the rest of the way in. Could be mid-morning by the time we drop anchor.”

“Oh,” Sokka said, disappointed.

“Aye,” the Boatswain agreed. “Now would you mind clearing off so the crew can get to work?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sokka said, stepping back hurriedly. He went inside to the crew mess, thinking of grabbing some grub before getting into costume. Wearing his tribe colors in Yu Dao would only draw unwanted attention, or so the shoutiest prince claimed. He got his tray and looked around, spying an empty seat next to a sailor wearing a maroon sailor’s cap.

“Hey, can I sit here?” he asked. The sailor stiffened, but nodded. Sokka sat next to him and saw he was wearing an eyepatch. “Say, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What’s your name?”

“Sokka, it’s me,” the sailor said in Zuko’s voice. Sokka dropped his chopsticks.

“Zuko!?” he squawked. “Tui’s gills, I didn’t even recognize you!”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Zuko said, clicking his tongue. “I’ve had to do this many times while infiltrating Fire Nation ports. And by the way, as long as I’m dressed like this, you should call me Yuki.”

“Yuki, huh?” Sokka said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t,” Zuko said warningly.

“Just…man, I gotta admit without the ponytail you look almost decent,” Sokka said. He wouldn’t be caught dead voicing what he really thought, which was that Zuko—somehow, against all odds—was quite handsome.

“It’s a phoenix tail,” Zuko snapped. “And on the subject of hair, you’ll need to cover up that little rabbaroo puff while we’re in Yu Dao. The Fire Nation has strict hair codes.”

“It’s not a rabbaroo puff, it’s a wolf tail!” Sokka retorted. “La’s fins, no wonder you guys are so uptight all the time. What kind of hair codes are we talking about?”

“Men’s heads must never be cut or shaved, and their hair must be affixed atop the head in a knot or secured by a headband or ribbon,” Zuko said as if quoting. “Anything else makes you look like a criminal.”

“A criminal, huh?” Sokka said, side-eyeing Zuko. Zuko looked him in the eye and took an aggressive bite of rice, as if daring him to ask. He decided not to poke that wasp nest any harder, and ran through a mental inventory of all his hats and scarves. “Rats. I don’t have any Fire Nation hats or hoods.”

“Borrow one,” Zuko said.

“From who?” Sokka asked.

“Anyone,” Zuko retorted. “And make it quick before the pilot gets here.”

Sokka shook his head. Zuko was the least helpful person on the planet. He finished his meal and went to find someone he was vaguely on speaking terms with, which ended with him borrowing a rather comfortable if somewhat threadbare dark gray hooded coat from Takeshi. He then went upstairs to meet Zuko, who answered his door with a sour look on his face.

“Ta-da! What do you think?” Sokka said, spreading his arms so Zuko could get the full effect. Zuko put a hand over his mouth, examining Sokka up and down.

“It’s missing something,” Zuko said. The door opposite opened, and Uncle Iroh came out. He was dressed like a commoner, which threw Sokka for a loop. 

“Good morning, Prince Zuko,” Uncle Iroh said. “And good morning, Sokka. My, my, you hardly look like yourself in those clothes! Hm.”

He leaned in to study Sokka’s outfit more closely.

“Something’s missing,” he said.

“Right?” Zuko said, nodding fervently.

“I’ve got just the thing,” Uncle Iroh said, shuffling back into his cabin. He returned with a red-and-yellow embroidered headband. Sokka allowed him to put it on him, his head feeling quite warm already. “There. You fit right in.”

“Thanks,” Sokka said, not feeling particularly thrilled by the praise.

“Let’s go,” Zuko said, nodding towards the stairwell.

They joined a small gathering of other sailors in the second compartment cargo hold. Takeshi was leading a work crew in mucking out the first compartment cargo hold—with two rhino riders dead and one in the infirmary, the filth had built up and made the place smell. At last, with a shudder and a clang, the bow ramp was lowered, and Takeshi appeared at the bulkhead door.

“Hold ready for inspection,” he called to the Quartermaster.

“Very good,” she replied. Just then, a sailor ran up and whispered urgently in her ear. She nodded, glancing at Zuko, and then addressed the assembled crowd. “Shore leave has been approved. You are to be back on the ship by sundown. Any reports of carousing, gambling, or disorderly conduct will be harshly punished. Remember: you are all sailors in good standing aboard the Zenka . You will act as such.”

“So I’ve thought about our cover story,” Sokka said, prodding Zuko in the back.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Zuko said.

“But what if it becomes important later?” Sokka asked. “I can’t just call you Yuki, sailor from the Fire Nation, can I?”

“Yes, you can,” Zuko said. “I don’t plan on making friends in Yu Dao. I’m only leaving the ship to make sure you keep yourself out of trouble.”

“Right. Well, I was thinking of going by the name Wang,” Sokka said. “My father was a fisherman, and my mother was a beautiful but troubled weaver. Every day, she would go down to the beach and wait for my father to return. Then one day, she met a tall, dark-haired man with twelve fingers and only one eye, who whisked her away to—”

“Sok—no, Wang. Shut up. It doesn’t matter!” Zuko said.

“Alright, I’ll skip to the end, but you’re missing out on some juicy details,” Sokka said. “How can we be friends if you don’t even know about my long struggle with pie addiction?”

“Do we have to be friends?” Zuko asked.

“Duh,” Sokka said. “Why else would we be shopping together for a present for my third cousin’s wedding?”

“...how much thought did you put into this?” Zuko asked.

“I was up all night taking notes,” Sokka said, showing Zuko his carefully mapped fake family tree. “See? We met because you were supposed to get married to my great aunt’s step-daughter, but it was tragically broken off when you were drafted. You were informed of the break-up by mail. It was a dark time for us all.”

“I actually think I can get on board with that,” Zuko said.

The Quartermaster gave them both a look and checked her clipboard.

“Yuki and …Wang,” she said. “Don’t dishonor yourselves or the ship, and be back by sundown.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Zuko said, bowing. The Quartermaster leaned forward and pitched her voice low.

“The lookouts spotted the royal sloop, and the pilot said she’s been in port for several days already,” she said, and then looked pointedly at Sokka. “Do what you have to do and come straight back.”

“I understand,” Zuko said.

“The royal sloop!?” Sokka said, hushing himself as Zuko and the Quartermaster both glared at him.

“Let’s just go,” Zuko said, grabbing Sokka by the wrist and pulling him roughly away.

The Yu Dao docks were bustling, but tightly organized. Green-roofed warehouses hugged the waterfront, and the white walls of the city proper were only visible through the narrow gaps between them. A soaring, red-roofed tower stood in the center of the city adorned with Fire Nation banners and golden dragon tails. Police and firebender guards made frequent patrols, keeping an eye on the dozens and dozens of earthbender stevedores and Earth Kingdom sailors laboring away under the mid-morning sun. Everywhere were voices and baying animals, the sounds of hammers and trundling carts, and the smells of fish, soot, and animal dung.

Sokka flagged down a rickshaw driver and paid him a few copper mon to take him and Zuko to the nearest market. As they were driven through the narrow, crowded streets, they passed by clusters of merchants, laborers, young lords and ladies, soldiers, and even a few fire priests and acolytes. People wearing clothes in Fire Nation reds, golds, and grays mixed with others in Earth Kingdom greens, tans, and browns.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Zuko said. “Even in Garsai, our people were kept separate.”

“Yeah, well,” Sokka said, pointing at a wealthy Fire Nation nobleman slapping his Earth Kingdom attendant, yelling indistinctly. “You don’t need different neighborhoods to keep people in their place.”

Zuko’s face darkened, and he fell silent. Sokka fidgeted with his journal, but then called to the rickshaw driver.

“Hey, excuse me!” he said. “Couldn’t help but notice the fancy ship.”

“You mean the royal sloop?” the rickshaw driver said.

“Is the Fire Lord himself here?” Sokka asked, stomach dropping.

“Spirits, no!” the driver replied. “About a week ago, Princess Azula arrived in Yu Dao on some business. Brought a whole retinue with her. They’re staying in the old Jade Palace behind the Dragon Spire—sorry, the “Secretariat-General”—and the only reason I know that is she paraded herself around town that first day.”

Sokka glanced at Zuko, whose hunched shoulders and angry frown radiated tension.

“It was quite an impressive display,” the driver said. “Of course, it also disrupted traffic for half the city. If anyone didn’t know she was in town before, they sure found out.”

Sokka sat back, arms folded. He was painfully aware of Zuko, and wondered if maybe he should’ve gone with Aang and Katara after all.

“This was a mistake,” Zuko said quietly.

The rickshaw driver dropped them off in a wide square outside of the city’s West Gate that was bordered on two sides by canals. The gate was open, and a broad avenue led directly to the city center. Over the heads of the crowds moving in and out of Yu Dao, they could see the towering, red-roofed Dragon Spire in the center of the city, behind which peaked the green and gold-trimmed roofs of the Jade Palace. Fire Nation banners flapped in the wind from balcony railings and flagpoles. A tall statue of the Fire Lord cast in bronze stood in the middle of the square.

“The market’s down that way,” the rickshaw driver said, pointing to a smaller gate leading towards the side streets off the square. “Come find me if you need a ride back!”

“Thanks!” Sokka said, waving to the driver. He and Zuko walked quickly across the square to the market, ignoring the feeling that the numerous soldiers, guards, and police were all watching them. Even the eyes of the statue seemed to follow them as they went. 

The atmosphere in the market was just as raucous as at the docks, but Sokka was too distracted to focus on shopping. He fumbled with his money and nearly lost his list. Each time he apologized for bumping into someone or dropping his coins, Zuko would get more and more tense until finally he snapped, grabbing Sokka and dragging him into an alley.

“Hey, watch it!” Sokka said, nearly dropping his shopping as he was shoved up against a wall.

“You need to focus!” Zuko snarled. “You’re drawing too much attention to yourself.”

“Oh, please,” Sokka scoffed. “I’m not the one who looks ready to kill the first person who looks at him funny.”

“Do you have a problem with the way I look?” Zuko growled.

“Yes!” Sokka retorted. “Ever since we got here, you’ve been stressing me out with how paranoid you’re acting!”

He quickly looked around to see if anyone else was listening in, and then dropped down to a whisper.

“I get it, okay?” he said. “There are firebenders everywhere. But you keep acting like you expect to get caught. Well guess what? That’s how you get caught!”

“You don’t understand,” Zuko said.

“Then make me understand!” Sokka whisper-yelled back. Zuko’s face contorted in fury, but instead of shouting he let out a shaky breath. Some of the tension left his shoulders.

“Princess Azula is my sister,” Zuko said. “I don’t understand why she’s here, but if I know her then it’s bad news for us.”

“Come on, how bad can she be compared to you?” Sokka said.

“My sister makes me look like an incompetent moron,” Zuko said. “She’s a better firebender than I could ever hope to be. She was my Father’s perfect child, while I was barely tolerated.”

“Oh,” Sokka said. “So she’s like a mini Fire Lord. That’s…that’s really bad.”

“Exactly,” Zuko said. “So if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you finish your shopping quickly so we can leave here as soon as possible.”

“Or,” Sokka said, thoughts racing. Inspiration came at the most unexpected moments, but just then it dawned on him what a perfect opportunity this was. “Or instead of running, we spy on her.”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” he said.

“Think about it, Zuko!” Sokka said insistently. “If we slip into the Jade Palace and figure out what her plan is, then we can plan around her plan! She’ll never even know what hit her!”

“How would we even get in there?” Zuko demanded. “There will be guards and soldiers everywhere. Even if we snuck in at night, there would be archers on the rooftops!”

“What about the servant’s entrance?” Sokka suggested. “Nobody pays attention to the help. We go in pretending to be looking for work, grab some spare uniforms, and then we can go wherever we want.”

“That’s…actually not the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” Zuko said begrudgingly.

“Thank you.”

“There’s just one problem,” Zuko said, pointing at his eyepatch. “I can’t hide this with a servant’s cap.”

“Then I can go in by myself. I look more like an ‘Earth Kingdom peasant’ than you do, anyway,” Sokka said sardonically.

“It’s too dangerous for you to go in alone,” Zuko said.

“Then tell them you lost your eye on a fishing trip,” Sokka said. “Tragic baiting mishap. Come on, Zuko, use your head!”

“I’m sorry that I don’t see the need to make up stories all the time,” Zuko snapped. Sokka facepalmed.

“Okay, how about this,” he said. “You just let me do the talking and keep an eye out for danger.”

“This is still a stupid idea,” Zuko said, but did not protest as the two went back into the market to purchase clothes fit for someone applying for a job at the governor’s palace. They used some of Sokka’s gold to rent a room at an inn where they could store the rest of his shopping and get changed. 

“There,” Sokka said, tying off his belt. “How do I look?”

“Poor,” Zuko replied, fussing with his hat. 

“That’s the idea, Your Shouty-ness,” Sokka said. “Now, let’s go.”

They were stopped immediately at the West Gate.

“Passes, please,” a guard said.

“Uh.” They exchanged looks. Sokka pasted an apologetic grin on his face and bowed low. “I’m sorry, I seem to have left it in my other pants, but my brother and I have an urgent appointment in the city, and—”

“No pass, no entry,” the guard said gruffly.

“Hang on!” Sokka protested, but Zuko kicked him.

“Don’t cause a scene,” he chided, and then bowed deeply to the guard. “My foolish brother lost our passes, and we don’t know where to go to replace them. We’re…from…”

“The countryside,” Sokka said, picking up the lie. “Our cousin is getting married, and we wanted to buy her presents from the best shops in town.”

The guard raised an eyebrow at them. Sokka flashed him his most winning smile, subtly elbowing Zuko so that he did the same. He wished he hadn’t, though, because Zuko’s smile was an awkward grimace.

“You’d better go to the River District Magistrate’s Office,” the guard said, shaking his head. “Now move along, you’re holding up the line.”

Sokka and Zuko looked behind them at the line of poor-looking Earth Kingdom folks that had formed behind them. Wealthier Fire Nation citizens were simply waved through. They stepped out of line and went back to the plaza.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to get passes from the Magistrate’s Office,” Zuko said.

“Gee, you think?” Sokka replied. “We’ll have to steal some.”

They slipped down a side street and found a teahouse. While Sokka made a distraction, Zuko pickpocketed two passes off a pair of Earth Kingdom clerks. They met up again outside and examined their loot.

“So, do you want to be Wei or Wu?” Sokka asked. Zuko snatched one at random and pocketed it. Sokka checked the remaining one. “Guess I’m Wei.”

Passes in hand, they circled around to the South Gate and entered Yu Dao. Compared to the market district or the dock district, the walled city was pristine. Earth Kingdom cleaners and sweepers kept the streets and buildings free of garbage and dust. The South District contained many foundries and blacksmiths, with guards and police on every corner. Sokka and Zuko hurried along to the Central District, which was a mix of genteel mansions and fancy establishments clearly catered towards the wealthy, all of which sat in the shadow of the Dragon Spire. They passed into the Tower District, where the streets were narrower and more crowded. The main gate of the palace led to the Secretariat-General complex, but a police officer directed them down a side street to a small wicket gate used by servants and palace staff. Once inside, they found a dusty courtyard alive with activity as servants, cooks, and laborers hurried back and forth.

“Uh, excuse me,” Sokka said, flagging someone down. “We were looking for the, uh…”

“The steward,” Zuko said.

“Yes, whoever is in charge of hiring people,” Sokka said. “We’re looking for jobs.”

“Steward’s office is that way,” said a harassed-looking clerk. “I hope you brought your references, we need all the help we can get.”

“Thank you!” Sokka said, and then turned to Zuko as they walked. “References!?”

“Maybe we don’t need them?” Zuko said uneasily. “Just…be convincing.”

The Steward was not impressed.

“No references, no experience,” he said with a huff. “You’re barely qualified to muck the stables! I suppose I can find something for you to do, but what I really need is a house servant. I don’t suppose either of you can serve tea?”

“My brother Wu knows how,” Sokka said. Zuko glared at him.

“Show me,” the Steward said, indicating a tea service.

Zuko sighed and took a moment to get into some kind of character—one of the servants from the plays his mother used to take him to, whose obsequiousness was a source of ridicule. He picked up the tray and brought it to the Steward’s desk, and then pulled back his sleeves so they wouldn’t trail in the cup as he poured. Then he placed the tray carefully before the Steward, bowed, and backed away. The Steward stroked his beard.

“Sloppy, but we can work with that. I’m sending you to the main house where you will assist with one of the less important guests. And you, Wei, will go to the kitchens.”

“Please, sir,” Zuko said quickly. “As you can see, I was injured. It was a…tragic fishing accident. I wouldn’t want to alarm any of the honored guests with my disfigurement. Please, give me some time to instruct Wu. He may be unrefined, but he is a quick learner.”

“Very well,” the Steward said. “But hurry it up! The Governor is hosting a banquet this evening in the Princess’s honor.”

“What are you doing?” Sokka hissed as he and Zuko bent over the small table where the tea set had been before.

“If I go in there, my sister will recognize me immediately,” Zuko said. “Nobody knows who you are.”

“Great, thanks,” Sokka said.

“Shut up and pay attention,” Zuko snarled, quickly going over the basics of tea ceremony etiquette that his Uncle had tried to drill into his head over the last three years. Sokka was indeed a quick study, but tea ceremony wasn’t the same as waiting hand and foot on the whims of an aristocrat. It was with no small amount of trepidation that they went their separate ways—Sokka to the main house with a sealed note for the chamberlain, and Zuko to the kitchens. 

The banquet room of the Jade Palace was a wide, low-ceilinged place lit by a hundred golden lamps. The walls and ceiling were decorated with exquisite paintings of mythical beasts and local legends, supported by thick, red, pine pillars. Soft carpets had been laid over the marble floor, and black lacquer tables were arranged in two long rows around a central stage. Dominating this was the high table where Princess Azula sat with the governor and other members of her retinue. Dancers danced, musicians played, and assorted merchants, guild masters, and ranking military officers ate, drank, and made merry. Around the edge of the room, lines of servers and attendants stood, waiting to be called upon.

In all of this, Princess Azula was bored out of her mind.

“I tire of this tawdry ballet,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Bring out the next performance.”

“Very well, Your Highness,” Governor Zheng said, clapping his hands. The dancers stopped, bowed, and retreated quickly, clearly afraid of provoking Azula’s wrath. She nearly allowed herself to smirk.

The next performer was a beautiful singer who launched into a song about the ephemeral nature of love and the weather. Azula grimaced, and didn’t bother to hide it.

“No, no, sing something else!” Governor Zheng barked. “A ballad! Let’s hear a ballad!”

The other guests took up the call, and the singer, despite her obvious embarrassment, changed her tune. She sang of a great battle and a victorious hero who led his men to glory.

“Hm. Is this really the best entertainment Yu Dao has to offer?” Azula asked, taking a sip of wine from her cup.

“Your Highness? But Yaling is our premier opera singer!” Governor Zheng protested.

“No matter,” Azula said, looking towards her advisors—a pair of truly ancient, identical twin ladies—sitting nearby. “Li, Lo, who among my retinue would you say is the best entertainer?”

“Miyu has some talent with the fans,” said Li.

“Shion has some skill with the pipa,” said Lo.

“Very well,” Azula said, nodding to the two ladies Li and Lo had named. “Governor Zheng, please allow my ladies-in-waiting to perform for you, as an expression of my sincere appreciation for your hospitality.”

“I—well—of course, Your Highness, I would not want to trouble an honored guest—” Governor Zheng stammered, bowing.

“No, I insist,” Azula said.

Governor Zheng motioned sharply for Yaling to leave the stage, which Miyu and Shion took to like they had performed there their entire lives. Miyu was provided with a set of fans, while Shion was given a pipa from the band. Azula sat back in her seat, enjoying the music but also noting the expressions of the guests. There was nothing like a small power play to bring out where courtiers’ loyalties truly lay, and if she wasn’t mistaken, given the number of people pretending not to take pleasure at his embarrassment, Governor Zheng’s position was precarious. She made a note to inform her father later that a stronger governor would need to be appointed.

After the banquet ended, the party moved to the gardens. Smaller tables had been set up for the guests in viewing galleries around the edges, creating a peaceful, almost intimate atmosphere. Servants waited in the wings ready to serve wine or tea. Azula was seated with the governor, as well as Commander Daigo, in charge of the Home Fleet attachment protecting Yu Dao in the absence of the Northern Fleet, and General Hanzou, in charge of the Yu Dao garrison. The conversation was much more interesting, and the tea and wine did not stop flowing until a messenger arrived with a scroll for Azula. She broke the seal and scanned the contents briefly.

“Everyone out,” she ordered. She pointed to a nearby server with dark skin and blue eyes. “You, servant. Fetch me my advisers.”

“Uh, yes, Your Highness,” he said, bowing clumsily and hurrying out of the viewing gallery.

“Commander Daigo, you may stay,” Azula said as everyone else respectfully and quickly followed her order. Li and Lo shuffled in while all around them servants escorted the various guests out of the gardens. When they were quite alone, Azula spoke.

“I’ve just received word from the Tailor’s Guild that our spy has finally checked in,” she said.

“Then your brother is here,” Li said.

“It would not do to be hasty,” Lo cautioned.

“Quite right,” Azula said. “I will call on the guild tonight and receive their full report. In the meantime, Commander Daigo, I need a complete report on the disposition of all Fire Navy assets in the region. My brother cannot be allowed to slip through our grasp.”

“We have two heavy cruisers in port and three task forces patrolling the Ming Zhu Bay and Li Chen Strait that can be recalled within a day,” Commander Daigo said with a bow. “In addition, the whole of the Yu Dao Littoral Fleet is at your disposal.”

“My brother was able to outwit Grand Admiral Zhao on several occasions,” Azula said. “And he had the whole of the Northern and Southern Fleets at his command.”

“With respect, Your Highness,” Commander Daigo said. “Grand Admiral Zhao took on too great a burden to be able to focus on such a targeted mission as this.”

“Which is a polite way of saying he let his ambitions blind him,” Azula said. “I hope that you will not disappoint me.”

“You need merely give the order and it shall be done, Your Highness,” Commander Daigo said.

“Then go,” Azula said. “Return here tomorrow with your report.”

Commander Daigo bowed again and left. Azula smiled and took a sip of tea. Li and Lo waited until the commander had gone before speaking.

“Commander Daigo has too much faith in himself,” Li said.

“Your Father would not approve if you delegated this mission,” Lo said.

Azula sighed. Of course she knew that. She was fully aware of the kind of man her Father was, and she understood exactly what was expected of her. Li and Lo were wise, but they nagged too much.

“I shall go to the Tailor’s Guild and discover what my brother has been up to,” Azula said. “Then we shall see what needs to be done.”

She stood and strode out, followed shortly after by Li and Lo. None of them noticed the blue-eyed servant who had remained behind, hidden in the shadows of a nearby viewing gallery, hand clapped over his mouth to keep his shocked gasps from betraying his presence.

Zuko hung up his uniform and sighed, exhausted. Being yelled at by the cooks wasn’t how he had planned the day to go, and listening to the kitchen gossip had been a waste of time. Suddenly, Sokka appeared next to him and grabbed him by the arms.

“We’ve gotta go,” he said urgently.

“Don’t touch me,” Zuko said, reflexively throwing him off. He checked their surroundings for eavesdroppers. “What happened?”

“I can’t talk about it here,” Sokka said. “Come on.”

They made their way quickly back to the inn, and when they were safely inside Sokka locked the door and closed the window shutters. Zuko lit the lamp, confused and annoyed at Sokka’s reticence.

“Is it safe now?” he asked.

“Princess Azula knows you’re here,” Sokka said.

“She what? ” Zuko’s mouth fell open aghast.

“There’s a spy on your ship,” Sokka said. “They’ve been reporting on you the whole time.”

“That’s a lie,” Zuko snapped. “My crew are loyal to me. They would never betray me like that!”

“Well, someone clearly has!” Sokka said, waving his arms emphatically. “And by tomorrow, she’ll have the Fire Navy ready to capture us all!”

Zuko sank down onto one of the beds, reeling, his head in his hand.

“We have to leave,” Zuko said. “I was right. Coming here was a mistake.”

“We have to find out who the spy is,” Sokka said. “They know about Aang.”

Zuko wasn’t really listening, instead remembering the gossip he’d heard over the course of the afternoon. The servants and kitchen staff had been gossiping about the goings-on of the Jade Palace. The governor hadn’t expected Princess Azula’s arrival, and it had been a scramble to prepare rooms and keep her entertained. She’d had several meetings with the Chief of Police, various Fire Army and Navy officers, and the Secretary-General. She sent and received a great deal of correspondence, most of it from the military but once she had ordered a dress from the Tailor’s Guild; however, no dress was delivered and she never went for measurements.

“I have to talk to Uncle,” Zuko said. “He would know what to do.”

“Can you trust him?” Sokka asked. Zuko’s temper flared to life, and he leapt to his feet.

“My Uncle would never spy on anyone for my Father or my sister,” he snarled.

“Okay! Okay!” Sokka held his hands up in surrender. “But listen, we don’t know who we can trust.”

“You said she knew I was here,” Zuko said. “How? How did she find out?”

“She got a letter saying her spy had checked in somewhere,” Sokka said. “I think maybe she doesn’t know the whole story yet.”

“Then we have some time,” Zuko said, mind racing. They packed up in silence and hastened back to the Setsujoku .

Azula put the report carefully down, drumming her fingers on the tabletop while she considered this new problem. Two people kneeled before her: the director in charge of the Yu Dao branch of the Ministry of Secrets, and the reporting agent who met with their asset aboard the Setsujoku . Their eyes were cast respectfully down, and they betrayed no emotion.

“The situation is more serious than I thought,” she said. “My brother has allied himself with the Avatar and means to stage a coup against the Fire Lord. Can you corroborate any of this?”

“My agents were able to confirm that the Avatar was not aboard the ship,” the director said. “And that the Water Tribesman did indeed go into town on a shopping trip, accompanied by another sailor.”

Azula flipped through the report’s pages until she found a section about the Avatar and his companions. The Ministry of Secrets had been tracking their movements for some time, and had put together quite a dossier. Her eyes fell on the sketch of the boy—Sokka—and she paused.

She’d seen this face at the banquet and in the gardens.

It took a moment for her to martial the spike of anger she felt—the realization that Zuko had successfully inserted a spy into the Jade Palace on such short notice was galling, and all the more reason to have Governor Zheng sacked at once. What had he heard? And how much did Zuko trust him?

“Director, I need you to get a message to our asset aboard the Setsujoku at once,” Azula said. “If we are going to make this a clean capture, they will need to be prepared to do everything in their power to frustrate my brother’s attempts to escape. The signal will be a blue flare.”

“Understood, Your Highness,” the director said, bowing.

A messenger hawk flew on silent wings towards the Setsujoku . Its dark feathers blended almost perfectly with the night sky, so from below it was impossible to mark its flight path. It swooped low and dropped a folded paper on the top deck.

Someone leaned down to pick it up, unfolding the paper by the light of the lantern that they carried. When they had read it, they crumpled the paper up and threw it into the dying coals of a brazier inside the crew mess. The fire flared briefly as it greedily ate the paper, leaving nothing but ash and the echo of footsteps on the midship stairwell.

Zuko’s arrival back at the Setsujoku was a noisy affair. He stormed up the bow ramp ahead of Sokka, through the 1st compartment hold where now only two komodo rhinos slept in their pens. He pointed to the first sailor he saw.

“Go and fetch Captain Jee and the Quartermaster,” he barked. “And wake my Uncle. I’m sure he’s probably asleep right now.”

The sailor scuttled off. Sokka side-eyed Zuko warily.

“You should return to your berth,” Zuko said quietly. “You won’t be of any use here.”

“Gee, thanks,” Sokka said. “Fine. But don’t leave me in the dark.”

“I won’t,” Zuko said.

Sokka went up the forward stairwell just as Captain Jee came into the 2nd compartment cargo hold, Quartermaster in tow.

“Your Highness, what’s going on?” Captain Jee asked, voice and face stern. “You didn’t come back with the others.”

“Rouse the crew, and prepare the ship for departure,” Zuko ordered. “We are leaving at once.”

“Your Highness—!” 

“That is an order, Captain,” Zuko snarled. He got in Captain Jee’s face, and then said, more quietly: “My sister knows we are here. I will not tolerate any argument or insubordination. You will either carry out my orders, or you will be stripped of your rank and thrown in the brig. Do you understand?”

“Understood, Your Highness,” Captain Jee said.

“Once we’re away from the city, call an officer’s meeting,” Zuko said. He turned to the Quartermaster, who looked shaken. “I need a list of everyone who went on shore leave.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said. “I’ll have it prepared and brought to your cabin.”

“Good. You’re dismissed,” Zuko said. They both bowed and strode off quickly. Zuko let out a nervous sigh, and then went to find his Uncle.

“Uncle, open up!”

Zuko pounded on his cabin door. He heard a shuffling noise from inside, and then his Uncle’s face appeared looking grumpy and tired. He had a candle in one hand and the smell of freshly brewing tea wafted from within.

“Prince Zuko? When did you return?”

“Just now,” Zuko said. “We need to talk. It’s urgent.”

“Whatever it is, can’t it wait until morning?” his Uncle groused, opening the door wider to let him in. Zuko stalked inside. He waited until the door was closed before speaking.

“There’s a spy aboard my ship.”

His Uncle nearly dropped the candle.

“Are you certain?” he asked.

“Sokka heard the report,” Zuko said, then hesitated. “It matches what I was able to gather while listening to gossip in town.”

“This is very serious,” his Uncle said. “But I suppose, knowing my brother, it was too much to expect that he would have simply let us go on a fool’s errand.”

“Someone on my ship has betrayed me,” Zuko said. “They’ve betrayed everyone!”

“Peace, Prince Zuko,” his Uncle said, laying a hand on his shoulder, which was shaking—whether from fear or fury, he couldn’t say. “We must be cautious. If this spy has gone undetected this long, they will be difficult to uproot. Do you have any leads?”

“I told the Quartermaster to gather a list of everyone who went on shore leave,” Zuko said. “They had to have left the ship in order to give their report to Azula.”

“A good start, but perhaps not sufficient,” his Uncle said, taking a seat on the floor. Zuko sat mirroring him. “Many people went ashore today. The Chief Engineer left with Nikko to commission the parts to repair the pumps; the Quartermaster took a small work crew ashore to begin recoaling; and Lt. Zan led another work crew to the market to sell our two extra komodo rhinos. All of them are suspects.”

“That’s more than half the ship,” Zuko said weakly. “And if it’s the Quartermaster, I can’t trust her list.”

“Only if she is trying to deceive you,” his Uncle said. “But one thing at a time. We must determine how many spies there are first.”

“Sokka just said one,” Zuko said.

“Then unless they have co-opted a co-conspirator, our job is relatively simple,” his Uncle said. “We shall have to speak with each of them about their whereabouts today, and determine who is lying.”

“We’ll start with the officers,” Zuko said. “If I can’t trust them, how can I trust anyone?”

“Very wise,” his Uncle said. “But remember that we are dealing with someone who has likely been with us for three years. You will have to put aside any feelings you have for them and think clearly.”

“I…I don’t know if I can, Uncle,” Zuko said, clenching his fists. “I’ve always struggled with controlling my emotions. That’s why it took me so long to master the basic meditations.”

“Then you must rely on someone else to help you,” his Uncle said.

“You,” Zuko said immediately. “You’re one of the wisest people I know.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but it would be foolish of me to pretend that I am not easily blinded by my own prejudice,” his Uncle said.

“...then Sokka can help us,” Zuko said. “He’s an outsider. He doesn’t care about anyone here.”

“Then you should conduct your investigation with Sokka present,” his Uncle said. “I shall probe the crew in my own way. With luck, we will resolve this matter quickly.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Zuko said, bowing.

He stood to go. Outside, he found the Quartermaster waiting patiently by his cabin with a sheet of paper.

“The list of shore leave applicants, as requested,” she said crisply, handing it to him.

“Thank you,” he said.

“The ship will be departing shortly,” the Quartermaster replied. “And the officers have been informed of the meeting. Do you need anything else?”

Zuko regarded her through slightly narrowed eyes.

“No,” he said. “I have some business to attend to, but I will see you at the meeting.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” she said, bowing. Zuko watched her go up the stairs, and then quickly descended to the artillery deck.

Sokka was pacing the cabin he was borrowing while Aang and Katara were away. It was a small, empty metal cube with a single lamp and fold-out bunks, and he felt himself going a little bit crazier with each circuit he made. If the Fire Nation was tracking Zuko, that meant they could track Aang anywhere. That meant he and Katara were in danger, and Sokka had stupidly agreed to this whole plan!

There was a brief knock at the door, and then Zuko let himself in. He looked simultaneously tired and ready to explode, and he held a scroll of paper in his hand.

“So?” Sokka asked. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan is this,” Zuko said. “You’re going to help me hunt down the spy.”

Zuko showed him the scroll, which was a list of names along with their departments, positions, and ranks.

“You’ve been observing my crew since you got here,” Zuko said. “You must’ve taken notes on some of these people.”

“I probably did,” Sokka said, sitting down and taking out his notebook. Zuko held the lamp for him so he could read by its light. It was quiet in the room, but the ship shuddered and groaned around them. Sokka felt unaccountably nervous in such a confined space with Zuko standing over him. Actually, it was entirely accountable why he felt that way. He was in enemy territory, his friends were in danger, and Zuko was standing close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off of his body. With his pencil, he circled a few names and crossed off a few others, almost jumping as Zuko leaned down curiously to watch him work, their breaths mingling in the air.

“We’re about to depart,” Zuko said, straightening up after a particularly loud clang of metal from the direction of the bow. “Once we’ve dropped off the pilot, I have to go upstairs to the officer’s mess for a meeting. When you’re finished here, come up and join us.”

“What exactly do you want me to do?” Sokka asked.

“We need to know where everyone on that list was today,” Zuko said. “And I need you to help me figure out if they’re lying or not.”

There was another shudder as the ship began to move.

“Why me, though?” Sokka asked.

“Because this ship and this crew are the closest thing I’ve had to a real family in years,” Zuko said. “But we’re all just ashmakers to you. You’ll be able to look at the situation with a clear mind.”

Sokka nodded grimly. The logic made sense.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” he said. “But you have to promise me that whoever it is you won’t go easy on them.”

“They betrayed me,” Zuko said darkly, vibrations from the engine reaching them as the screws began to turn faster and the ship gained speed. “I won’t show them mercy.”

In the dead of night, the Setsujoku raised her bow ramp and pulled quietly out of her berth. She picked up a pilot at the entrance to the harbor, and sailed under half steam out into more open waters. The pilot was ferried over to the light ship Moritaka , and then the Setsujoku put Yu Dao to wake. A slim crescent moon watched her flee, but it was swiftly obscured by clouds.

Chapter Text

Houka 7, Mutsuki 5, Risshun

The officer’s mess was tense when Zuko arrived. He could see the confusion and anger in the eyes of the Chief Engineer and the Boatswain, and Captain Jee regarded him coolly as he took his seat. The Quartermaster was closed off, a pillar of professional distance, but he knew how quickly that facade could crumble. Lieutenant Zan and Lieutenant Touma stood behind Captain Jee, the former rather bemused and the latter outright fidgeting from nerves. The Master-at-Arms minutely straightened out his uniform with slow, fatigued hands, stifling a yawn. Zuko took a preparatory breath, attempting to calm his own fear and fury.

“There is a spy among us,” he said.

“Impossible,” the Quartermaster said. “I’ve checked every sailor on board this ship myself. If there’s anyone with divided loyalties, we would know.”

“Then perhaps you can explain to me how my sister knew of our arrival in Yu Dao,” Zuko said. 

The Quartermaster had no reply, falling into a troubled silence. Zuko took another calming breath.

“We have been betrayed,” he said. “And as a result, the Fire Navy will soon be mustering against us. We are escaping while we still have the chance, and in the meantime we have to root out the spy in our midst.”

“Your Highness, if I may?” the Chief Engineer said, raising his hand.

“Speak,” Zuko said.

“The repair work on the pumps is nowhere near complete,” he said. “In fact, they were entirely disassembled today.”

“Do you have the parts to complete them?” Zuko asked.

“No, Your Highness,” the Chief Engineer said. “We placed the order, but they wouldn’t have been delivered until tomorrow. We’ll struggle to get rid of any seepage or leaks that occur, and if we start taking on water we will be unable to slow it down enough to do more than buy time to abandon ship.”

“It’s too dangerous to stop in another port to finish the repairs,” Captain Jee said. “If we had the parts, that would be one thing, but if the Fire Navy is looking for us then we run the risk of being bottled up anywhere we go.”

“I’m a little confused,” Lieutenant Touma said. “If there’s a spy onboard, surely the Princess would have been told of our arrangement with the Avatar. Why weren’t we arrested in port?”

“I’m not sure,” Zuko admitted. “But it doesn’t matter. Whether she knows about the Avatar or not, she would find out we were hiding something. She’s always been good at discovering secrets.”

“Unfortunately, I have to agree that running away is the best course of action,” Captain Jee said. “Princess Azula has authority second only to the Fire Lord to command Fire Nation military and civilian assets. Unlike with Zhao, we are facing a potentially highly-coordinated effort to capture us. We need a plan going forward, taking into account our ship’s current condition.”

“I’ve got an idea,” the Boatswain said, putting his hand up. “What if we stole another ship? We could sail through Fire Nation waters undetected, and hide out down south until we decide on our next step.”

“That’s piracy,” Zuko said. “You’re suggesting we become pirates.”

“Well, why not?” the Boatswain said. “As far as the rest of the Fire Nation’s concerned, we’re all criminals, and as the Chief Engineer said the Setsujoku is in a bad state. I say we scuttle her and seize a new ship. The time they spend looking for a sunken wreck is time we have to get away.”

The officers around the table exchanged nervous looks, clearly fearful of how Zuko would react to this proposal. He had been vehemently against resorting to outright piracy in the past.

“If I authorize this plan,” Zuko said carefully. “Then I have a few conditions. And if you think it’s still doable with those, then I’ll allow it.”

The Boatswain’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Zuko held up a finger.

“First,” he said. “No unnecessary killing. We’re not going to stoop to the level of someone like Zaima.”

“Well, it won’t be easy to…” the Boatswain said. Zuko cut him off.

“I’m not done,” he snapped. He held up a second finger. “Second, no civilian ships. I won’t harm innocent people if I can avoid it, and I won’t put the crew in a ship with no defensive capability during a manhunt.”

He paused, considering his final condition.

“Third,” he said, holding up another finger. “We still have an obligation to the Avatar. Whatever ship we steal, it needs to be one we are sure will be able to sail to Omashu.”

The Boatswain caught the Master-at-Arms’ eye, and a brief, non-verbal exchange took place. Lieutenant Touma stepped in and had a short, whispered conversation with him as well. Captain Jee checked his clipboard, the lines in his neck tight.

“It’s doable,” the Master-at-Arms said. “We have enough weapons to arm every able-bodied sailor for a boarding operation.”

“More importantly,” Lieutenant Touma said. “We’ve done this kind of thing before: when we infiltrated the Yilong Isles communication tower, when we captured the Tobiuoza from Captain Arai, and when Captain Jee took this very ship in Su Oku City. I’d dare say that few crews in the Home Fleet or whatever remains of the Northern Fleet have any real experience repelling boarders. They likely only know the standard procedures, which they probably haven’t drilled for. As long as we can get up nice and close, we’ll catch them unawares.”

“Captain Jee, do you have an opinion on this plan?” Zuko asked.

“Frankly, Your Highness, I don’t like it,” Captain Jee said. “It’s foolhardy and dangerous. Having said that, if you order me to seize a ship at sea, then it shall be done.”

Zuko closed his eyes, nodding. He trusted Captain Jee’s leadership and planning skills, and he fervently hoped he still had the man’s loyalty.

“I’m sorry to ask this of you, then,” Zuko said.

“I’ll do my best to deliver,” Captain Jee said with a bow.

There was a knock at the door, and Sokka poked his head in. The other officers stared at him in mild disbelief as he slid slowly into the room, notebook clutched in front of him like a shield. He looked at Zuko, face stony.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Your Highness, what’s the meaning of this?” the Quartermaster asked.

“Before we do anything else,” Zuko said. “I need to know which of you I can trust. Sokka is going to help me do that.”

“This is ridiculous!” the Quartermaster said. “He’s Water Tribe, he has no loyalty to you or anyone else here.”

“He’s the Avatar’s friend!” Zuko yelled over her. “The Avatar may be an idiot, but he’s a decent enough judge of character. Besides, he stands to lose just as much as us if we are all caught, and he won’t be blinded by sentimental feelings.”

Sokka cleared his throat, eyes averted and cheeks pink. Zuko wanted to crawl into a hole from embarrassment, but there were more pressing concerns. He sat back and ceded the floor to Sokka, who dithered for a moment before opening up his notebook.

“So I figure that the spy has to be someone who left the ship to go into Yu Dao,” he said. “Let’s start by eliminating everyone who stayed onboard.”

“Couldn’t the spy have communicated with their handler some other way?” Captain Jee asked.

“If they did, then someone would’ve seen it,” Sokka said. “And that would also give us a good lead.”

“He has a point,” the Chief Engineer said. “I had to go into the city with Nikko to order machine parts.”

“I was onboard,” the Master-at-Arms said. “I was taking inventory of the artillery deck.”

“I was also onboard,” the Boatswain said. “Well, out and about on the docks some, but no further. Can’t leave these worthless louts His Highness calls a crew unattended for five seconds.”

“I was onboard,” Lieutenant Touma said. “I was helping the Master-at-Arms.”

“I took an early lunch after the morning inspection,” Captain Jee said. “I was with General Iroh for most of the afternoon.”

“I went into the city to see about restocking our provisions,” the Quartermaster said. “I took a detail of sailors with me to handle the special orders. I didn’t let any of them out of my sight.”

“Who did you take with you?” Zuko asked.

“Ahn, Bo, and Misun,” the Quartermaster said. “They’re reliable enough, with proper oversight.”

“I also went ashore,” Lieutenant Zan said. “I arranged the sale of two komodo rhinos at the market, and was accompanied by a small work crew led by Takeshi. I let him run a personal errand, which he assured me would not take long. He returned to the ship with the rest of us.”

“Uh huh, uh huh,” Sokka said, scribbling in his notebook. He turned to Zuko. “I think we should speak with the crew next.”

“Alright,” Zuko said. “This meeting is adjourned. Captain, you’re in charge of planning the operation to capture a new ship. Everyone else, return to your posts. If you see any Fire Navy ships, I want to know. And most importantly, say nothing of the spy to anyone. If they are among the crew, we can’t risk alerting them.”

The officers nodded, bowed, and filed out one by one until it was just Sokka and Zuko left. Sokka drummed his fingers on the cover of his notebook.

“...what if it really is one of them?” he asked.

“Just tell me who you’ve ruled out,” Zuko said, gritting his teeth.

“Well, it’s probably not Captain Jee,” Sokka said. “The Lieutenant guy and the Master-at-Arms are also safe, if we can get someone to confirm their stories.”

“And the others?” Zuko asked.

“The Quartermaster seemed really defensive,” Sokka said. “She’s also in a position to know about everyone and everything on the ship. The Chief Engineer only had one other person with him, which makes it hard to say whether he’s lying or not. The Boatswain admitted to being on the docks, so he had plenty of chances to send a note or something.”

“But he was also supervising the crew,” Zuko said. “Which means there are a lot of potential witnesses.”

“Yeah,” Sokka said. “The other lieutenant mentioned Takeshi. I’ve talked with him a couple of times, and he seemed…alright, I guess.”

“Let’s start with the Quartermaster,” Zuko said. “I don’t want to suspect her, but you’re right that she is the most suspicious right now.”

“How do you want to do this?” Sokka asked.

“I’m going to summon Ahn, Bo, and Misun here,” Zuko said. “And you’ll be nearby listening and taking notes.”

“Do I get to ask any questions?” Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Zuko said. “My crew doesn’t know or respect you. But they’ll listen to me.”

Ahn sat before them both, hands clasped in his lap, looking like an earnest student trying to impress a strict teacher. This impression ran at complete odds with his rough sailing shirt, his shaved head, and his scarred face. Sokka glanced at Zuko, and then opened his notebook to a fresh page. Zuko folded his arms, glaring down at Ahn.

“I need you to tell me everything you did today,” he ordered.

“Is this some kind of inspection?” Ahn asked, scratching his head in confusion.

“Now!” Zuko yelled.

“Alright, Your Highness, right away!” Ahn said. “Well, today started like any other. Bo woke me up as he usually does: with a great big fart next to my face. I’m a deep sleeper, but I have a sensitive nose, you see. I could tell by the stench that he’d been eating—”

“No, no, stop! That’s disgusting and I don’t care.” Zuko cut him off. “What did you do in Yu Dao?”

“Oh! Well, why didn’t you just start with that?” Ahn said. “Ordering me to tell you everything, well there’s a lot I do in a day, right?”

“Just get on with it,” Zuko snapped.

“Right, so it was me, Bo, and Misun, and we were helping the Quartermaster the whole day,” he said. “She had us running in and out of the ship from sunrise to about mid-afternoon, I’d say. Do you, er, want me to tell you everything we were carrying?”

“Yes,” Zuko said.

Ahn proceeded to list off everything that he could recall bringing aboard the ship—which was not a short list of things—along with unprompted observations about Bo, Misun, and the Quartermaster. Zuko glared down at him the entire time, but he slowly found himself not paying attention to the things Ahn was saying. He snapped back into focus when he realized the sailor was done talking.

“I’m impressed you could remember all of that,” Zuko remarked, looking at a full page in Sokka’s notebook.

“Well, of course!” Ahn said, puffing his chest out proudly. “Sharp as a fish hook, they say about me.”

“I think we’re done here,” Zuko said. “Go and find Bo, and tell him to come here.”

“Aye, aye, Your Highness!” Ahn said, hopping up from the chair. He bowed, and scuttled out of the room.

“Anything useful?” Zuko asked Sokka.

“Well, apart from knowing everything in the medicine cabinet…” Sokka muttered, looking over the page. “If Ahn’s memory is as good as he claims, then he would probably have remembered if the Quartermaster disappeared for some reason.”

“Did she?” Zuko asked. “I stopped listening after he brought in the ginseng box.”

“No,” Sokka said, frowning. “She just yelled at him to stop joking around.”

Zuko nodded grimly. That sounded right.

“Let’s see what Bo has to say, then,” he said.

“Aye.”

Sokka and Zuko exchanged looks. Bo sat before them, his wild hair barely contained by a neatly-pressed sailor’s cap. The chair was just too small for his large frame, but he somehow made it seem like he was daintily perched on it.

“It’s not a yes or no question!” Zuko snapped. “What did you do in Yu Dao?”

“Zuko, wait,” Sokka said, tapping him on the arm. “Bo’s got a speech impediment, remember? He only says ‘aye’ or ‘nay’.”

“Right, of course,” Zuko said, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I forgot. Did you help the Quartermaster today?”

“Aye,” Bo said.

“Did you bring medical supplies and special orders aboard the ship?”

“Aye.”

“Do you remember exactly what you brought?”

“Nay,” Bo said, shaking his head. Zuko sighed, and changed tack.

“You’ve been with Ahn for a long time, right?”

“Aye.”

“He claims to have an excellent memory,” Zuko said. “Is that true?”

“Aye,” Bo said, nodding fervently.

“So he could remember a whole list of dozens of items?”

“Aye.”

Zuko frowned, considering his next question.

“Were you with the Quartermaster the entire time?” he demanded.

“Aye,” Bo said.

“You didn’t leave her sight?”

“Nay.”

“She didn’t go anywhere, did she?” Zuko asked. “Somewhere she ordered you not to follow her?”

“Nay,” Bo said, looking confused.

Sokka finished his notes and then nodded at Zuko.

“That will be all,” Zuko said to Bo. “Go and fetch Misun.”

“Aye!” Bo said, bowing.

“Well?” Zuko asked Sokka after the door closed behind Bo.

“I dunno,” Sokka said, chewing on his pencil. “He could be lying to cover for Ahn, or they’re telling the truth and it’s not the Quartermaster.”

“Unless she ordered them to keep quiet, and they’re all lying,” Zuko said darkly.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions!” Sokka said. “We don’t solve anything by accusing the wrong person.”

“Fine,” Zuko said. “Let’s hear what Misun has to say.”

Misun largely corroborated Ahn and Bo’s report. She sat with her back straight, hands folded in her lap, the picture of respectful cooperation, except for her extensive sleeve tattoos, which no respectable person would be caught dead with, in Zuko’s estimation. Still, she answered all of his questions without hesitation.

“Thank you, that will be all,” Zuko said at the end of the interview.

“Your Highness, may I ask what this is about?” Misun said.

“No,” Zuko replied. “Return to your post.”

“It’s just that we departed two days ahead of schedule,” Misun said. “The crew have been talking, and there are rumors. Ahn said you asked about what had been brought onboard. Are we smuggling something out of Yu Dao?”

“That’s preposterous,” Zuko snapped, disbelief overruling his anger at his order being ignored. “We’re not a smuggling ship.”

“So you’re making sure nothing was brought onboard that might cause the Fire Navy to start looking for us,” Misun said.

Zuko’s glower softened to a curious frown.

“You sound like you have something more to say,” he said. “Out with it!”

“I heard that Takeshi ran a personal errand today,” Misun said. “But he wouldn’t tell anyone what it was. I’d never take him for a thief, but the timing is suspicious.”

“I see,” Zuko said. “I’ll take that into consideration. You’re dismissed.”

Misun bowed, closing the door quietly behind her. Zuko waited until he was sure she had gone.

“That’s the second time Takeshi’s name has been brought up,” Sokka said.

“I know,” Zuko said, hands curling into fists.

“You uh,” Sokka said, looking at the air shimmering around Zuko’s forearms. “You alright there, buddy?”

“He was supposed to be Ieyasu’s friend,” Zuko muttered, staring down at his fists unseeingly.

“Who’s Ieyasu?” Sokka asked.

“Nevermind,” Zuko said, forcing his inner flame to cool itself. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll bring him in next. If he’s our spy, then—”

There were rapid footsteps outside, then a brisk knock at the door. Captain Jee’s voice came through.

“Your Highness, we have spotted another ship,” he said. Zuko felt a cold spike of anxiety in his gut and went to open the door. Captain Jee’s face was grim.

“How far?” Zuko asked.

“Still a ways out,” Captain Jee said. “We saw the lights and waited until she was close enough to confirm. The profile suggests a Fire Navy cruiser, although we’re not sure yet what size.”

“Show me,” Zuko said, following Captain Jee up to the bridge.

The ocean at night was dark, and the moon and stars were obscured by clouds. Thick fog rolled in, carried by the cold breeze, but in the distance were the lights of a ship. Zuko could pick out the bow lamps and count a number of lights on the deckhouse; however, as the fog rolled over it the lights grew dimmer and dimmer. Zuko felt torn, unable to give his next order—on the one hand, they needed a new ship; on the other hand, attacking another Fire Nation vessel at night felt…dishonorable.

“What do you think, Captain?” Zuko asked, stalling the decision.

“I don’t like this fog,” Captain Jee said. “It makes approaching our quarry dangerous. But it might also be used to our advantage. If we deploy our skiffs, we could encircle the ship in the fog and attack from two sides without them realizing. By keeping the element of surprise, we minimize casualties and increase our odds of victory.”

“Very well,” Zuko said. It was decision time. There really was no going back after this, Zuko thought. As long as Zhao had been alive and in command, Zuko could justify his actions as self-defense, as reasonable actions taken to defeat a treacherous enemy. Now? This was piracy, plain and simple. But any chance he had to earn his Father’s forgiveness had been shattered when he threw in his lot with the Avatar. What was one more crime, really?

“Captain Jee,” Zuko said, steeling his resolve. “I am hereby ordering you to capture that vessel.”

“Very well, Your Highness,” Captain Jee said, bowing. “Helmsman, bring us towards that ship at half steam. Your Highness, will you take part in the attack?”

“Yes,” Zuko said. “I ordered it. It’s my responsibility to see it through.”

“Very well,” Captain Jee said. “I will gather the crew in the crew mess to make the announcement.”

Zuko nodded and turned his gaze back to the distant, fading lights as Captain Jee departed. 

“The situation is this,” Captain Jee said, addressing the assembled sailors. Most of the engineering department was exempt from the meeting, but there were a few off-duty firemen in the crowd. Zuko glanced around and was surprised to see both Jin Hui and Taiyou standing to attention nearby, burn scars aired for all to see. “The Setsujoku is no longer safe, and the Fire Navy is searching for us. Therefore, we will be quitting this vessel for a new one shortly. Everyone here will be issued armor and weapons to prepare for a boarding action to capture a Fire Navy cruiser we spotted through the fog.”

The Master-at-Arms and Lieutenant Touma lifted up a board showing a generic, top-down drawing of a cruiser. The Setsujoku and her skiffs were all marked as well in various positions to one side. Captain Jee gestured to the board as he spoke.

“Our plan is simple,” he said. “As we approach, we will deploy skiffs to encircle the enemy vessel and board with grappling hooks here, here, and here. Meanwhile, the Setsujoku will pull alongside the enemy here and deploy a boarding party. Our main objectives are the bridge and the magazine: securing the surrender of the enemy captain could end the fight quickly, but securing the magazine of flammable tar and blasting jelly is just as important to prevent the enemy from destroying the ship to deny us the prize. Lieutenant Touma will be leading the skiff parties.”

Captain Jee yielded to Lieutenant Touma, who cleared his throat.

“The success of this plan relies on two things: maintaining the element of surprise for as long as possible, and speedily securing the objectives. Therefore, I will be taking volunteers for the skiff crew by department based on experience first. Those of you who do not find a place on a skiff will be assigned to the main boarding party. Firebenders, any volunteers?”

All four firebenders stepped forward.

“Good,” Lieutenant Touma said. “Rhino riders and artillerists, any volunteers?”

Takeshi stepped forward, as did an artillerist. The rest remained in their spots. Five deck crewmen also volunteered, as did two of the firemen. When it was done, Zuko also stepped forward.

“I will join the skiff party,” he said.

“Then volunteers come with me,” Lieutenant Touma said. “Captain Jee and the Master-at-Arms will instruct the main boarding party.”

He led them all downstairs to the armory to get kitted out. It was quick and quiet, with no one talking more than necessary to help each other don their armor. Zuko glanced at Takeshi as he adjusted the straps on his greaves, eschewing the royal armor in order not to immediately give himself away to the enemy. The rhino rider seemed nervous, but filled with determination somehow. It was something about the way he frowned—not angry or afraid, but as if he’d made up his mind about something difficult. Zuko’s ruminations were interrupted when the armory door opened and Sokka walked in. Lieutenant Touma intercepted him.

“I’m here to help,” Sokka said.

“I’ve seen your spearwork,” Lieutenant Touma said. “Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“I was on a mission to infiltrate Zhao’s ship and assassinate him,” Sokka said.

“I heard that mission ended in failure,” Lieutenant Touma said, arms folded.

“Well, yes,” Sokka said, waving his hand. “But I made it all the way up to the bridge without getting caught. Ask Zuko, he was there.”

Lieutenant Touma looked towards Zuko, who nodded curtly.

“Alright, you’re in,” he said. “Grab some armor and a spear and suit up.”

“Yes sir!” Sokka said, saluting. Sokka immediately went and got a set of armor which Zuko knew he’d scoped out when he had been caught spying before. He got to his feet and quietly walked over while Sokka struggled to put the armor on.

“Let me help you,” Zuko said, causing Sokka to jump.

“Uh, sure,” Sokka said, turning red. “I mean, I could do it myself, no problem. But it might be faster if—”

“Shut up,” Zuko said. 

Sokka was very fidgety as Zuko helped him put on the chestplate and pauldrons, and Zuko tried not to breathe too hard or at all while standing so close. The others, gearing up for war, faded from his awareness as the intimacy of the moment gripped his heart. He recalled another time—and another warrior—and the feelings the memory evoked threatened to undo his iron control.

“Wait, where does this strap go?” Sokka asked as Zuko stepped away and he took over the task himself.

“Second from the top,” Zuko said, finally allowing himself to breathe again.

“Thank you,” Sokka said. “You know, I’m surprised you volunteered to help. I could’ve just asked someone else.”

“I did this for Yura once,” Zuko said. “While we were on the run from Zaima’s pirates.”

“...oh,” Sokka said, looking away and blushing harder.

“No, you—!” Zuko began, but Lieutenant Touma called them all to gather in the skiff bay. Zuko angrily put on his helmet and then thrust a finger in Sokka’s face. “It wasn’t like that at the time! Stop imagining things!”

“I wasn’t imagining anything!” Sokka squawked. “You’re the one imagining things!”

“Why would I need to imagine anything?” Zuko hissed, looking around. He was struck by a sudden realization—Sokka’s flushed cheeks, his awkward stammer, the way he had been watching Zuko since they’d left the North Pole. “Wait… are you interested in me?”

“No!? What makes you say that!?” Sokka replied, flushing an even darker red.

“Oh Agni, you are,” Zuko said, taken aback. This was…he didn’t know how to feel about this. Elated? Horrified? Guilty? Sokka had been in love with Yue, just as Zuko had been in love with Yura. He had been so sure about that. Even so, Zuko still looked at Sokka, admired him, and even wanted him. Was Sokka feeling the same?

“Do we really have time for this?” Sokka snapped, shoving past him. “Whatever you’re thinking is wrong.”

It was the reality check Zuko needed. They did not have time for this. Maybe they would never have time for it. He shook himself and followed Sokka to the skiff bay. He needed to stay focused if he wanted to carry the day.

Sokka sat nervously in the skiff as it was lowered down the midship ramp into the foggy sea. Besides himself, the skiff also carried a firebender named Zoran, the two firemen, an artillerist, and two deck crewmen. Lieutenant Touma sat at the bow, and another sailor had been wrangled into piloting the skiff. The Setsujoku had its lamps on, and from the bridge a bell rang periodically. It was answered by another bell through the mist. The two ships were close.

Lieutenant Touma signaled to the pilot, who opened up the engine. They sailed in absolute silence, following the echoing sounds of the bells through the pressing wall of fog. Sokka looked back to see the second skiff following after them, Zuko at its bow. He frowned, unable to focus on the plan, and it was all the stupid prince’s fault

Sokka was not interested in him. That was ridiculous. Yes, he was handsome, under very specific circumstances, but that was as far as that went. The fact that Zuko regularly got under his skin seemingly just by existing was due to the fact that he was the Fire Prince, even if he was officially a traitor.

There was no other reason. None!

If anything, it was Zuko who was interested, not Sokka! And yeah, that did feel a little nice, but only because it felt nice to be liked. All it proved was that Zuko had good taste. Sokka could appreciate a man with taste, and sharp cheekbones, and a strong jaw, and…

A fireman touched him on the shoulder, making him jump. They locked eyes, and the fireman signaled to Sokka with his hands. Sokka simply stared at him, uncomprehending. The Fire Nation had hand signs? This was new intel, but it did make sense in a way. He wished he hadn’t left his journal in his cabin. The fireman tried again, but Sokka simply shook his head.

“Are you okay?” the fireman whispered, glancing at Lieutenant Touma.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sokka said. “Just thinking about the plan.”

The two skiffs, the Hana and the Yama, would strike at the same time. Sokka’s group aboard the Yama would go for the magazine while Zuko would lead the Hana’s group in the attack on the bridge. They would need to hold the objectives until Captain Jee arrived with the boarding party from the Setsujoku, assuming the enemy captain didn’t surrender.

“Hey, why do we only have one firebender with us?” Sokka whispered to the fireman.

“We don’t want to risk open flames near the magazine,” the fireman replied, “and Zoran’s the best when it comes to fire fighting.”

They lapsed back into silence, which did not help Sokka’s anxiety. The fog pressed in on them, but soon enough the dark shape of a Fire Nation ship, given form only by its bow light, loomed up. The pilot quickly turned to avoid hitting it, and they came to rest along the starboard side. The second skiff sailed past, and Lieutenant Touma and Zuko exchanged hand signs. The deck crewmen prepared ropes with grappling hooks while everyone else made space for them. Sokka rolled his shoulders nervously.

Somewhere through the fog, he knew Zuko was also getting ready to fight.

He shook himself, annoyed at how conscious he was of the prince. The sailors prepared to throw, looking to Lieutenant Touma for the signal. A brief spark appeared from the other skiff towards the aft of the enemy ship. Zoran answered with a spark of his own, and the sailors threw.

The first hook missed and tumbled back down into the water, but the second hook caught. After checking the tension, the sailor tied it down to the deck of the skiff and the artillerist scrambled up. The second sailor secured the other rope and climbed up next to attach the second hook to the top railing. The firemen went next, and then Sokka, followed by Zoran, and Lieutenant Touma bringing up the rear.

On the top deck there were scuffles in the dark, and a muffled cry as an enemy sailor was taken down. The discarded lantern of a watchman lay nearby, dribbling oil. Sokka righted it before it caught fire. Visibility was low, with the fog muting the lights on the bridge and bowsprit.

Nearby, the shadowy forms of Zuko’s team appeared over the railing. Zuko immediately went for the exterior ladder of the deckhouse. He was followed by two others while the rest made for a side entrance. Suddenly, there was a shout as a pair of sailors emerged from the forward stairwell. Fire flashed, and Sokka rushed towards the fight.

Sailors clashed on the top deck and below. Sokka pushed past them, blocking any strikes that came his way. At the bottom of the stairs, he traded blows with an unarmored firebender. In two swings, Sokka had him at spearpoint. The thought of killing the man crossed his mind, but instead Sokka swung the butt of the spear up into the man’s groin. He went down wheezing and clutching his crotch.

Lieutenant Touma led them through a metal door into the first trebuchet hold. It spanned the width of the ship, and the center was occupied by the disassembled trebuchet and the mechanical apparatus used to raise and lower it. Sokka had been chased off whenever he had tried to look at the Setsujoku’s trebuchets. He doubted he’d have any more time to look over this one.

“Secure this area,” Lieutenant Touma ordered. “Sokka, make sure no one comes through that door.”

“Got it,” Sokka said, placing himself in the stairwell doorway. He debated whether to leave it open or closed, but he heard a growing number of shouts and then saw a group of firebenders—armored and armed this time—running up from below. He slammed it shut and locked it, jamming a piece of metal through the wheel for good measure. The firebenders pounded uselessly on the door for a moment.

“They’ve locked themselves in!” someone called.

“Fetch the carpenter,” someone else ordered. “You two, check the port-side door. You, get a crew together to open up the deck hatch.”

“Aye, sir!”

“Hey! They’re coming through—!” Sokka turned to shout, but the artillerist he saw made a frantic shushing motion at him. He tried to do a hand sign, but Sokka simply shook his head. He pointed towards the port side of the ship, and then again at the ceiling. The artillerist nodded and disappeared for a moment. He reappeared with Zoran and Lieutenant Touma, who approached Sokka.

“Quietly,” Lieutenant Touma said. “What did you hear?”

“They’re going to try and get in through a door over there,” Sokka whispered, pointing. “They also might try to open the deck hatch and come in that way. And they sent for the carpenter.”

“Zoran,” Lieutenant Touma said, nodding at the locked door. Zoran approached and snorted on the metal bar Sokka had jammed into it. It burned red hot, and with a grunt Zoran bent it in a knot, making it impossible to dislodge without removing the whole door.

Sokka whistled, impressed, but then heard a commotion to his right. The artillerist was thrown backwards as a pair of firebenders forced their way inside. Sokka grabbed his spear and moved to engage, dodging behind a crate of trebuchet shot to avoid the flames. He found himself crouched next to a sandbag and got an idea. He ripped it open and grabbed a handful.

The first firebender that found his position was met with sand. His attack went wide, and Sokka moved in past his guard. He used his spear as a lever to throw the firebender against the crate of shot. The second firebender ran up, but was intercepted by Zoran. Their duel was brutally swift, but the flames from it kept Lieutenant Touma from going to the artillerist’s aid, and kept Sokka from closing the door.

More firebenders came through, and Sokka, Zoran, and Lieutenant Touma were forced back to the bulkhead. Sokka threw a box of tools at the attacking firebenders, buying them a moment to retreat to the magazine door. Zoran, acting as rear guard, was overwhelmed as three firebenders attacked him at once. The fireman dragged Sokka and Lieutenant Touma into the magazine, then closed and barred the door.

“Well, get comfortable,” Lieutenant Touma said. He flinched as someone bodily impacted the door. “That’s the only way in or out.”

“Ow,” Sokka said, realizing he had been cut on the arm through a gap in his armor. By the dimmest possible lamplight, he could see a small but growing bloodstain. He found a cleanish cloth and held it over the wound. The door shuddered again as something heavy rammed into it.

“Pirate scum!” someone from outside yelled. “We’ve sent for the carpenter. It’s only a matter of time before we have this door open. Surrender yourselves now!”

“We’ve got more than enough boxes and crates to make a barricade strong enough to keep you out,” Lieutenant Touma replied. “Why don’t you surrender?”

“You’re in no position to bargain!” the voice called again, incensed. “We have your friends! Open this door, or we’ll kill them!”

Lieutenant Touma snorted in amusement. Sokka’s blood ran cold, and he looked around at the others in the magazine; however, they weren’t any more bothered by the threat.

“If you kill them, we’ll start lighting fires,” he called back. “There’s six barrels of blasting jelly in here that I can see. A cruiser this size would be sunk within minutes if that were to detonate.”

“He can’t be serious!” Sokka whisper-screeched to the fireman standing next to him.

“Of course he is,” the fireman whispered back, looking at him askance.

“If you light them, you’ll blow yourselves up, too,” the voice called.

“Aye, we would,” Lieutenant Touma said. “But we’d take you and all your friends with us.”

There was a pause.

“You’re bluffing,” the voice said at last.

“Is that a risk you want to take?” Lieutenant Touma asked. He signaled to the deck crewmen to move the crates, and then had the fireman bring one of the barrels of blasting jelly forward. The fireman removed the lid, revealing the dark, viscous gel inside. The smell was strong, sharp, and acrid, burning the inside of Sokka’s nostrils. Taking the room’s solitary oil lamp, the fireman held it near the barrel and nodded to Lieutenant Touma.

“What are you doing?” Sokka asked in a panic.

“Negotiating,” Lieutenant Touma said. “Just trust me.” 

Before Sokka could answer, he opened the magazine door.

The deck crewmen rushed forward with their spears held up to fend off the enemy firebenders, who had drawn weapons. Sokka stayed back as the scrum turned into a stalemate, which ended as a man shouted from behind the enemy line.

“Hold, men!” a middle-aged man with an officer’s sash called. “Everyone back!”

Slowly, carefully, the firebenders disengaged and stepped away from the doorway. The officer came to the  front, sword in hand. Sokka could see through the press of bodies both Zoran and the artillerist being held with weapons pointed at their necks. Lieutenant Touma came forward to stand opposite the enemy officer.

“If your men take one more step forward, I’ll give the order,” he said, and signaled to the deck crewmen from behind his back.

“Let’s not do anything rash,” the enemy officer said. “You must know you can’t fight your way out.”

“And I hold your life in my hands,” Lieutenant Touma said. “So why don’t you give us our people back nice and slow, and we can all walk away from this alive.”

“Do as he says,” the officer said.

The sailors holding Zoran and the artillerist shuffled them forward. The artillerist was freely bleeding from the head, and Zoran’s leg shook whenever he was forced to put weight on it. Lieutenant Touma motioned Sokka and a deck crewman forward to help guide them into the magazine.

Sokka had just put Zoran’s arm over his shoulder when he heard the sound of feet running on the deck overhead. Lots of feet. Moments later, shouts came from the direction of the trebuchet hold’s aft doors. Lieutenant Touma reached forward and grabbed Sokka and Zoran, dragging them into the magazine.

“Now!” he shouted.

One of the deck crewmen hurled a box out the door, swiftly followed by the fireman throwing the lamp out after it. The other two deck crewmen slammed the magazine door shut as the firebenders outside scrambled to get away. Sokka landed on the deck with an ‘oof!’ as Zoran’s weight knocked the wind out of his lungs.

Now the room was pitch black. Sokka carefully tried to help Zoran into a sitting position while outside the sounds of combat increased. Lieutenant Touma let out a loud breath from somewhere to his left.

“I almost didn’t think that would work,” he admitted.

“These Home Fleet fish are spineless,” one of the deck crewmen said from his right.

“Kind of dumb, too,” the other deck crewman said.

“Well,” the  first one said. “Are you going to take the time to check if the box someone’s throwing at you from the magazine isn’t something that goes boom?”

“So you were bluffing!?” Sokka demanded.

“Of course he was,” the fireman said from somewhere behind him. “This isn’t the Fire Army where you’d be court martialed and executed for cowardice if you didn’t die honorably in combat.”

A body slammed into the door. They all gripped their weapons in the dark, but no other attempt to force entry was made.

“What do you bet His Highness comes to our rescue?” one of the deck crewmen asked.

“I bet it’s Captain Jee,” another said.

“I’ll take those odds.”

“No betting,” Lieutenant Touma said.

There was silence in the magazine again. The battle got closer and further at intervals, with no way for them to know which side was winning. After a lull, there was a knock on the magazine door.

“Lieutenant Touma?” Captain Jee called.

“Yes, Captain!” Lieutenant Touma replied.

“See? I told you,” the other deck crewman said.

“Quiet!” Lieutenant Touma ordered.

“Lieutenant, the ship is ours,” Captain Jee called. “It’s safe to come out.”

“Aye, sir!” 

Sokka came up on the top deck to find the fog lifting in the pre-dawn light. The enemy sailors were all gathered to one side, some battered and burned, others clutching open wounds worse than Sokka’s tiny cut. Zuko stood before the enemy captain, who was on his knees. He looked over, and their eyes met. Sokka gulped, straightening up slightly as Zuko’s eyes slid down and landed on the blood-stained cloth.

“You’re injured,” he said, striding over, brow furrowed.

“It’s nothing,” Sokka replied cagily. Zuko stopped short, seemingly realizing what he was doing. His expression closed off.

“Go see Jia,” Zuko ordered.

“What about you?” Sokka demanded.

“I’m busy,” Zuko replied shortly, turning away.

“Yeah, okay, jerk,” Sokka said under his breath. It was a good reminder that Zuko was still a jerk, whatever other feelings he may or may not inspire in Sokka. He stomped across the gangway back to the Setsujoku to where Jia had set up a first aid station on the top deck. She took one look at his arm, washed the cut, and stitched it shut. Sokka gritted his teeth as she worked, but then it was over and he was sent on his way.

“Come on, you soft-shelled seahorse squids! I want this deck cleared and the holds empty today!” the Boatswain yelled. Sokka ducked under a crate being carried by a burly sailor and went inside. He needed to pack up all of his things and move them over to the new ship.

When he reached his berth, however, he found his bag was open and his journal was not inside. He searched around, confusion turning to disquiet and then outright alarm, but couldn’t find it. Rushing out into the corridor, he almost ran into a pair of sailors moving weapons and tools out of the armory.

“Hey, watch it!” one of them barked.

“Sorry!” Sokka said. “Oh, fox seal chum! If everyone’s packing things up, how am I supposed to find it?”

He nevertheless gave it a shot. Running around the ship and aggravating all the ashmakers wasn’t his idea of a good time, but if the spy had stolen his journal then he had to try and find it—or whatever was left of it. But after the artillery deck and the few areas of the deckhouse that he was familiar with turned up nothing, he was beginning to panic.

“Where is it?” He cursed under his breath. On a hunch, he began checking the braziers in the common areas of the ship.

“Five minutes! We’re opening the seacocks in five minutes!” a petty officer came through the crew mess as Sokka was shoveling through ash.

“Monkey flapping feathers!” Sokka growled, combing his sooty fingers through his hair. His wolf tail came undone, but he didn’t fix it because there wasn’t time—he ran down to the artillery deck to repack his bag, and barely made it across the gangway before the Boatswain ordered it raised. He slipped a little on the deck of the new ship, looking back at the Setsujoku , sitting dead in the water.

Was he making a mistake not checking one last time? Was it already too late?

“Oy, move it!” the Boatswain ordered. “We’re about to get underway!”

“Okay, okay, sorry!” Sokka said. He went inside the deckhouse while the Boatswain took roll call of the deck crew, pausing in the corridor unsure what to do next.

If the spy had stolen his journal, they had certainly destroyed it. That meant that, whoever it was, they knew about the investigation and were making their own moves to frustrate it. And that meant that he would have to be more careful from now on.

The new ship, the Tamushiba , sailed away from the Setsujoku as the sun began burning away the fog. The water frothed around the Setsujoku’s waterline as it poured into her through the now-open seacocks. A skiff carrying the last of the engineering crew caught up with the Tamushiba’s aft loading ramp and was drawn aboard. The Setsujoku’s old skiffs floated nearby, filled with the former crew of the Tamushiba , holding just enough coal to make it back to shore, and nothing else. Within minutes, the Setsujoku tipped over on her side and sank beneath the waves, her purpose fulfilled.

Zuko did not watch her final descent. He was on the bridge with Captain Jee, familiarizing himself with the new ship. Captain Jee was poring over the previous captain’s log, making notes on his clipboard and humming to himself every few minutes.

“We might have a problem,” he said, closing the log at last.

“What is it now?” Zuko demanded.

“The Tamushiba was meant to report to one Commander Daigo at Yu Dao,” he said. “To relieve one of his older ships, probably so it could be mothballed or sent to drydock for refitting.”

“Then we haven’t bought ourselves much time,” Zuko said. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll be long gone by the time they discover the theft.”

“Shall we resume our original course?” Captain Jee asked.

“Do it,” Zuko said. “Even if we are ahead of schedule, the Avatar knows our heading. He’ll catch up.”

“Understood, Your Highness,” Captain Jee said.

Zuko left the bridge and descended the midship stairwell. The Tamushiba ’s layout was similar to the Setsujoku ’s in a lot of ways, so he could let his legs carry him while his mind wandered. The next few hours would be a flurry of activity, and it would make finding the spy that much more difficult.

He found himself in the galley where the Cook was beginning breakfast prep while his Uncle brewed tea.

“Uncle,” he called.

“Ah, Prince Zuko,” his Uncle said, waving him over. “Can you believe that the previous cook didn’t stock any tea in the pantry? Disgraceful. I’ll have to ration my current supply if I want it to last until we arrive in the Earth Kingdom.”

“What have you found?” Zuko asked in an undertone while his Uncle poured him a cup of tea.

“We can trust the Cook,” his Uncle said. 

“Are you sure?” Zuko asked, looking over at the Cook as he was fileting fish.

“As sure as any of us can be,” his Uncle replied. “I have been listening to the rumors circulating amongst the crew. Aside from a shocking amount of illegal gambling, however, I have not discovered anything suspicious.”

“What does that mean?” Zuko asked.

“I’m not sure,” his Uncle admitted. “Our spy might simply be very careful to hide themselves from notice. Or, they could be manipulating the gossip to their own ends.”

“Or maybe they’re not among the crew,” Zuko said. He stood up sharply. “I need to find Sokka. Tell me as soon as you learn anything useful.”

“At least finish your tea before you go,” his Uncle chided him. “You’ll miss something important if you’re always rushing around.”

Zuko scoffed, and quickly slurped down the tea. It was nearly scalding, but he bit his tongue and endured it. With a porcelain click, he put down his cup, glared at his Uncle, and stormed out of the kitchen. His Uncle shook his head.

“Ah, the impatience of youth,” he lamented.

“What was that?” the Cook asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” Iroh said, swirling his own cup of tea thoughtfully.

As the sun rose, Azula trained.

In a wide open courtyard in the Jade Palace, a metal rod had been driven into the ground at her request. Li and Lo sat on raised seats nearby, observing. The palace attendants had all been instructed not to disturb unless they wanted to suffer the consequences, and the loud thunderclaps that echoed over the city each morning were enough to underscore the point.

Azula stood towards the eastern end of the courtyard and slowly breathed. Inhale. Exhale. As she did so, she pointed her fingers and widened her stance. Separating the energies within her, she created a blue spark. Drawing them further apart, she inscribed a sparkling blue circle in the air with her left hand. With her right, she drew one going in the opposite direction. Bringing her fingers over her heart center, she held a massive potential in front of her most vulnerable place. Shifting her weight, she opened her stance, thrusting her right hand forward and her left hand back, maintaining symmetry in form.

Lightning flashed between her fingertips and the metal rod.

There was a deafening thunderclap. Azula held the pose, breathing steadily. Li pursed her lips.

“Almost perfect,” she said.

“Just one hair out of place,” Lo said.

Azula’s eyes refocused. Indeed, a single lock of hair had slipped out of her topknot and fallen across her face. She was nearly overwhelmed by anger at this infraction, but just as quickly as her fury was provoked she forced it aside. She would not suffer an angry outburst here.

She was above that.

“Almost is not good enough,” she said, fixing her hair back in place and running the set again. It had to be perfect. Nothing less would do.

There was, however, an interruption. A servant carefully entered the courtyard and hurried over to Li and Lo. There was a brief whispered conference as Azula struck the metal pole again with lightning, feeling a slight shake in her knee that betrayed her coming fatigue. She was frustrated—every time she performed the set, there was always one detail out of place. One flaw that she couldn’t fix.

“Commander Daigo’s report has arrived,” Li announced.

“And your brother’s ship departed in the night,” Lo added.

“What?” Azula demanded. She rounded on the messenger. “Why was I not informed of this sooner?”

“I-I-I apologize, Your Highness!” the messenger said, cowering. “I am only the messenger!”

“Hmph. Get out of my sight, you worm,” Azula snapped. “Li, Lo. Today’s training is concluded. Return to the Powerful and prepare for departure.”

Li and Lo both bowed and got to their feet, shuffling carefully out of the room. Azula strode calmly through the Jade Palace until she reached the audience chamber, where Governor Zheng was speaking with Commander Daigo from his seat, which was on a raised dais.

“Leave us,” she ordered the governor. Without waiting for him to be gone, she took his seat for herself. Commander Daigo remained where he was at the bottom of the dais. “Well, Commander?”

“Captain Ishikawa’s task force is pursuing a smuggling ship in the Li Chen Strait. He could be recalled to Yu Dao within two days at his current heading,” Commander Daigo said. “Captain Oda’s task force was already returning to port, and should be in Yu Dao within half a day. Captain Ran’s task force is anchored at Kawasemi-minato for repairs.”

“We have to accelerate our plans,” Azula said. “My brother’s ship left in the night, and I was not informed of this until just this morning. We have lost precious time.”

“I see. I shall have the harbor master reprimanded,” Commander Daigo said. “Do we know Prince Zuko’s current heading?”

“Fortunately, yes,” Azula said. “If he keeps to his original plan, he will be sailing by a direct route to Omashu through the eastern Fire Islands.”

“Captain Ran’s task force is well-positioned to pursue,” Commander Daigo said.

“Then give the order,” Azula said. “Captain Ran is to pursue my brother with all haste. As for Captain Oda, have his task force redeploy to Midoriyama Island. According to our spy, the Avatar is there, hiding. Captain Oda is to confirm the Avatar’s whereabouts, but not engage.”

“If I may ask, why not, Your Highness?” Commander Daigo asked.

“The Avatar is not someone we should deal with lightly,” Azula said. “He has already frustrated many attempts to capture him, at great expense. We can only afford so many ill-conceived blunders.”

“But if he returns to your brother’s ship, that could complicate matters,” Commander Daigo said. “I could order Captain Oda to harass the Avatar and keep him occupied.”

“No,” Azula said. “Leave the Avatar to me.”

“Very well,” Commander Daigo said.

“I shall depart immediately to join the chase,” Azula said. “You shall take one of the heavy cruisers and accompany me. Leave the other in port, and inform all Fire Navy captains and commanders from here to Garsai to patrol for pirates.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

“That will be all,” Azula said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. Commander Daigo bowed and left, firing off orders to his staff officer as he went. Azula sat in the governor’s seat a bit longer, pondering the issue.

Zuko had a head start, but he also had a predictable heading. That meant she could nudge his path with the right pressure and lead him into a snare of her own design. It was simply a matter of choosing the where, and ensuring that everyone arrived when they were supposed to. That was the difficulty, of course—people could not always be relied upon, which was why it was always better to handle delicate matters oneself.

Azula boarded the Powerful and was greeted by her captain and a parade of officers. They fell into step alongside her as she mounted the stairs up to the deckhouse. The royal sloop was designed to inspire awe in those who beheld it, and so the deckhouse resembled a traditional castle atop its walled foundation. At the top of the stairs was a platform for a palanquin to rest for outdoor audiences. Azula bypassed this, striding inside and making for the bridge.

“Captain, take us out of Yu Dao along this route,” she said, handing him a chart that had been prepared by the Tailor’s Guild. “Full steam.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” her captain said, bowing.

“Lieutenant, I need a sea chart of the eastern Fire Islands,” she said. “Mion, fetch me a cup of tea.”

The lieutenant and her lady-in-waiting bowed and hurried off to carry out her orders. Soon, she had a steaming cup of black tea in hand and a chart of the sea lanes between the colonies and the Fire Nation. With her finger, she traced Zuko’s path, pondering each islet and lagoon until she settled on one that was ideal for her purposes. She allowed herself a little smirk.

“Lieutenant,” she called. A different lieutenant attended to her, but it didn’t matter. “Have the communications officer relay a message to Kasen City: they are to dispatch a task force of ships to the Lion Turtle Rocks to arrive within two days and prepare an ambush.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the Lieutenant said, noting the island she indicated on the chart. He bowed and took his leave. Azula swirled her cup of tea thoughtfully. Two days was sufficient: Captain Oda’s task force would chase Zuko into the Home Fleet’s waiting hands, and she would be there herself to see the trap snap shut. The Avatar would be dealt with—by all accounts he was a mere child, and although he may be a gifted bender, his capacity for tactical thinking was limited. Azula had been reading people since she was old enough to speak. There was no doubt in her mind that the Avatar would pose no challenge for her in that regard.

After finishing her tea, she retired to her cabin to commence her daily studies.

By mid-morning, a complication had occurred. She was absently paging through some dull treatise on battle strategy when another Lieutenant entered her cabin. He bowed low.

“I apologize for the interruption, Your Highness, but we have encountered a stray lifeboat.”

“So?” she asked. “Leave them for Commander Daigo’s ship to rescue. We haven’t the time or space to waste on such things.”

“Ah, perhaps I misspoke, Your Highness. Forgive me,” the Lieutenant said. “The lifeboat in question appears to be a skiff, of the kind usually used by Fire Navy cruisers.”

That got Azula’s attention. She closed the book she was reading with a snap and set it aside.

“I see,” she said. “Well then, let us extend them a merciful hand.”

The sailors sat lined up on the deck of the Powerful . The skiff had been drifting for some time, its furnace depleted. Azula inspected each of them in turn—they were all tired, all ashamed to varying degrees, and all fighting to maintain neutral expressions. A few bore unmistakable battle injuries. She stopped before the one who had identified himself as the ranking officer.

“Tell me again what happened,” she said. “Don’t leave out any details.”

“We were ambushed in the fog, Your Highness,” the wretched officer said. “By the time I was roused from sleep and halfway to the armory, they had taken the bridge and artillery deck. Captain Nobu surrendered to prevent a slaughter. We were put onto skiffs and set adrift.”

“And what happened next?” she asked.

“They took our ship,” the officer said. “And scuttled their original one. The last I saw of them, they were disappearing through the fog, and their former ship was sinking. Captain Nobu tried to keep the skiffs together, but the tides pulled us apart.”

“It sounds like a frightening ordeal,” Azula said, although not out of genuine sympathy. “Could you describe these pirates? Did you get a clear look at any of them?”

“Yes, I saw their leader,” the officer said. “He wore a helmet, so I couldn’t see his entire face, but he looked young compared to the others, and he had a large scar over one eye.”

“Which eye?” Azula asked.

“His left eye, I believe,” the officer said.

“And tell me, what was the name of your ship?” she asked.

“The Tamushiba , Your Highness,” he said.

Azula let out a brief nasal sigh to maintain her cool, collected demeanor. Zuko’s plan was clear as day to her now, and she once again found herself—begrudgingly—acknowledging its ingenuity. If the Fire Navy was looking for the Setsujoku , better not to be aboard it. Of course, his unwillingness to kill any witnesses was a mistake, one Azula would make him pay for.

“Debrief these men and transfer them over to Commander Daigo’s ship,” she said, addressing her captain. “And have the communications officer relay a message to Captain Oda and Captain Ran describing the Tamushiba . We can’t have them scouring the area for the wrong ship.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” her captain said.

A few minutes later, a messenger hawk flew out towards Commander Daigo’s ship, and from there another was sent in the direction of the shore. Shortly after, a skiff deployed from Commander Daigo’s ship to come and carry the rescued sailors away somewhere they could be more usefully employed. Azula returned to her cabin to resume her studies, leaving orders not to be disturbed except in an emergency. Just because she was in the midst of a manhunt did not mean she would be excused from her other obligations as a Fire Princess.

Chapter Text

 Houka 7, Mutsuki 5, Risshun

The Tamushiba’s crew mess was not a single common space that spanned the width of the deckhouse like the one on the Setsujoku . Instead, a central corridor ran the length of the deckhouse to the funnel casement, with the crew mess occupying a long, rectangular room on the starboard side between the galley, the pantry, and a deck storage compartment. A placard on one wall listed the meal shifts. Captain Nobu had clearly run a tight ship.

Zuko was crossing the crew mess on his way from the galley when he was intercepted by Sokka, who gave him a meaningful look and then dragged him away by the wrist. They went across the corridor into the multipurpose room on the port side of the ship, whose blueprint mirrored the crew mess; however, the previous occupants had divided the space up into a training area, a makeshift ready room, and additional storage. Sokka pulled Zuko into the storage area after checking that no one else was nearby.

“Uh,” Zuko said, all thoughts temporarily fleeing at the intensity of Sokka’s manner.

“Okay, good, we’re alone,” Sokka said. “Listen, we have a prob—why are you blushing?”

“I’m not blushing!” Zuko snapped, face burning. Sokka seemed to belatedly realize the situation: the two of them, alone, shoved in close together among dusty boxes, the barely acknowledged tension in the air. His ears flushed red.

“It’s not what you think!” he yelped.

“Then what is it?” Zuko demanded. “You dragged me here by the hand!”

“It wasn’t your hand, I wouldn’t just grab your hand like that!” Sokka spluttered. “That would be….just…ugh! No, it would never happen!”

“What do you want, then?” Zuko asked.

“Well, I was going to talk to you about…” Sokka said, then quickly double-checked that they were still alone. “...the spy, but then you had to go and make it weird, and—!”

“I told you: I’m not the one who dragged you in here!” Zuko whisper-yelled.

“Can we just focus, please!” Sokka’s voice cracked.

“Fine!” Zuko replied, nostrils flaring. He was tired, he was hungry, and this was all too stressful for him to handle with any care or grace. “Spit it out!”

“The spy took my journal,” Sokka said. “It’s gone.”

“What do you mean, it’s gone?” Zuko demanded.

“I mean when I got back to the ship to pack my stuff, it wasn’t there!” Sokka said. “Someone must have taken it, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess who!”

“Then they know everything we know since we started this investigation,” Zuko said.

“It’s worse than that,” Sokka said. “If they kept it, they’ll know everything I wrote in it since I got the journal.”

“How long ago did you get it?” Zuko asked.

“I think it’s been about two months,” Sokka said, wracking his brain. “After the pirate attack where we first met you.”

“That was just after the winter solstice,” Zuko said.

“Yeah, so not long,” Sokka said. “But I wrote in it a lot.”

There was an awkward pause as Zuko remembered burning Sokka’s drawings. That had just been one page. Were there others? He wasn’t going to ask. Sokka, for his part, didn’t seem in any mood to elaborate.

“So the point is, the spy isn’t just waiting for us to catch them,” Zuko said. “We need to act fast.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not the Quartermaster, so we can trust…” Sokka said, counting on his fingers. “Three people, besides each other and your Uncle.”

“Uncle says we can also trust the Cook, although I don’t know why,” Zuko said. “We were going to question Takeshi.”

“Yeah, because he disappeared in Yu Dao,” Sokka said. “Misun and the lieutenant lady both said so.”

“Lieutenant Zan,” Zuko said. “Let’s go.”

“Zuko, wait,” Sokka said, catching his arm before he could leave. “We need to be careful about how we handle this. We don’t know how long this person has been hiding themselves.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that!” Zuko snapped, snatching his arm away.

Takeshi proved surprisingly uncooperative, however. They found him in the forward crew quarters apparently having just been released from ship transfer duties. A few other sailors were around. They stood when Zuko and Sokka entered, and pretended not to be eavesdropping while Takeshi was questioned.

“I just went to the market on a personal errand, Your Highness!” he said, glancing at the nearby sailors.

“For the third time, what did you buy? ” Zuko growled.

“A gift!”

“What gift?”

“Look, does it really matter? It’s nothing illegal,” Takeshi protested.

“What if I ordered your sea chest searched?” Zuko snapped. “I’ve heard some disturbing rumors of smuggling.”

“No, you don’t have to—”

“Then tell me why you went to the market!” Zuko yelled. “No more lies!”

“Okay! It was a hairpiece!” Takeshi cried. “I bought a hairpiece as a gift, and it took a while to find the right design.”

“Show me,” Zuko ordered imperiously.

Sheepishly, Takeshi opened his sea chest and withdrew a small wrapped-paper package. Inside was an irogane hairpiece with a stylized komodo rhino head etching on the front. Zuko sighed impatiently and returned the gift.

“Fine,” he said. “It seems you have been fully honest. Then tell me, did you happen to see anyone else while you were in Yu Dao?”

“Besides my work crew? No,” Takeshi said, shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”

Zuko clicked his tongue and stormed away. Behind him, he heard Sokka say something inane to Takeshi, but whatever it was didn’t matter. He went to the midship stairwell and considered his next move. He could settle the matter of the Chief Engineer’s innocence relatively easily—he’d talk to the Chief Engineer and Nikko, and confirm their reports with the members of crew who helped them take the pumps apart. He could also try to establish the Boatswain’s innocence, or at least rule out that the spy was part of the deck crew. The vast majority of new sailors they took on ended up in the deck crew, so the chance was highest that a spy could have slipped in with them. 

Possibly at Garsai. Possibly at Maogang. Maybe even earlier.

“Hey, wait up!” Sokka called after him, interrupting his train of thought. “Why’d you leave just like that?”

“Because Takeshi had nothing more to say,” Zuko said.

“Yes he did,” Sokka said. “He knew who else was on the rhino work crew.”

“Why does that matter?” Zuko demanded.

“It means we can check his and the Lieutenant’s stories,” Sokka said.

“Oh,” Zuko said. He kicked himself for overlooking something so basic. “That’s brilliant.”

“Why yes, it is,” Sokka said, preening a little.

“Let’s speak to the Master-at-Arms, then,” Zuko said. “I’ll have him summon them one by one.”

The komodo rhino work crew had consisted of half a dozen men, including Takeshi, borrowed from the deck crew and the engineering crew. They were brought to an unused cabin in the deckhouse that Zuko decided would become the temporary home of the investigation—walking around was exhausting, and perhaps the reason that the spy had been able to steal Sokka’s journal was that they hadn’t kept a close enough eye on it. He also informed Captain Jee of this, and learned that he had cleared, to his own satisfaction, the Chief Engineer of suspicion.

“His testimony matches Nikko’s, and none of the other firemen or stokers contradicted them,” Captain Jee said. “I’ve known him for many years, and always considered him honorable and trustworthy. I believe he is not the spy.”

“I see,” Zuko said. “Thank you, Captain Jee.”

He bowed and left. The Master-at-Arms brought the first sailor on the work crew in for questioning.

“Sit,” Zuko commanded. The sailor sat, and bowed. “I have some questions for you about what happened in Yu Dao. Answer them truthfully!”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the sailor said, confused but obedient.

“Tell me what you did, from the moment you left the Setsujoku to the moment you returned,” Zuko demanded. Sokka sat nearby, having procured some paper and a spare clipboard, taking notes.

“Lieutenant Zan led us through the docks towards the animal market,” the sailor said. “Takeshi led the first beast, and my job was to take care of the second. We had two men each to ensure the animals didn’t spook or strike anyone with their tails. At the animal market, we waited while the Lieutenant went to speak with the auctioneer. She returned some time later, and we brought the animals out onto the block. We sold both mounts to a silk merchant for a fair price. Afterwards, Takeshi requested permission to go to visit the West Gate Market.”

“What did you do while he was there?” Zuko asked.

“We all went to a dumpling shop to eat,” the sailor said. “The Lieutenant went to get Takeshi, and the two of them returned after we were finished. Then we came back to the ship.”

Zuko glanced over to Sokka, who finished scribbling on his clipboard and then gave him a nod.

“That will be all,” he said. “You’re dismissed.”

The sailor bowed and left. The next one entered, and Zuko questioned him. An hour or so later, the last one left, and Sokka scooted over with his notes.

“They all basically agree,” he said. “They all stayed together, except Takeshi, who went to the market, and—”

“Lieutenant Zan,” Zuko said.

“She left them alone two times,” Sokka said. “At the animal market, and when she went to go get Takeshi.”

“He didn’t say that she came to get him,” Zuko said. “Master-at-Arms! Bring Takeshi here!”

Before the Master-at-Arms could go, however, Lieutenant Touma arrived.

“Your Highness! We’ve caught them,” he said.

They ran down to the brig, where they found Lieutenant Zan, Captain Jee, and Uncle Iroh looking grim. Inside the tiny cell was a sailor sitting sullenly on the floor. Zuko dimly recognized him as one of the deck crew.

“Report,” he commanded.

“Your Highness, it seems we’ve found the spy,” Captain Jee said. “This man here confessed to everything.”

“How…?” Zuko looked around, suspicions aroused. Was it really that simple?

“I took it upon myself to investigate the loading crews,” Lieutenant Zan said. “I suspected the Boatswain wouldn’t have been able to keep a close eye on everyone coming and going through the hold, and it seems I was right. This man, Yuuta, could not be accounted for for at least an hour. When I questioned him, he tried several times to lie. I held him in the brig until I could be sure.”

“How did you confirm your suspicions?” Zuko asked.

“While I was the third watch officer, I kept careful logs,” she said. “I noted Yuuta’s presence on the top deck at every port we stopped at, at least as far back as Kamatsuka, although I did not realize the significance until now.”

“I’ve confirmed the logbook entries,” Captain Jee said. “Although Yuuta wasn’t the only sailor to be above decks after hours, it’s as Lieutenant Zan said.”

“I sincerely apologize for the oversight, Your Highness,” Lieutenant Zan said, bowing low. “If I had paid closer attention, we might not have let this snake lie undetected for so long.”

“Hang on,” Sokka objected. “Logbook entries? Weird absences? I agree, it’s suspicious, but that’s not—”

“The man has confessed in full,” Uncle said with a sigh. “He even admitted to stealing your journal when he realized you were helping Prince Zuko.”

Sokka looked taken aback. He and Zuko exchanged looks. They hadn’t told anyone else that the journal had been stolen. Only the spy could have known.

“So where is it?” Zuko asked.

“He thought to plant it on someone else and frame them,” Uncle said. “But he panicked and threw it in the furnace instead. We were able to confirm that, as well.”

Captain Jee produced a piece of charred, blackened leather that might at one time have been the cover of a book. Sokka took it, frowning, testing the material. A piece broke off in his hands, but then he nodded.

“This was it,” he said, and showed a little scratching he had made of…Zuko didn’t know what, but it could have been either an angry fruit or a violently angry rock.

“What am I looking at?” Zuko asked, squinting.

“Wha—? It’s a polar bear dog!” Sokka said.

“No it’s not,” Zuko said firmly, and then ignored whatever dumb outburst Sokka was sure to give. “So that’s it?”

“It would appear so, Your Highness,” Captain Jee said, with a small smile. Zuko felt unsure and mildly out of sorts. An enormous weight had just been lifted off his shoulders, but his body had yet to spring back into its prior shape.

“I will speak with him myself,” Zuko said. “I have to make sure.”

“You will also have to render judgment on him,” Uncle said. “But later, I think. It has been an exhausting day for us all.”

Zuko nodded, and looked at Yuuta in the brig. The man did not meet his gaze. His posture was hunched, his shoulders set in a resentful sulk. His inner fire leapt at the idea that this unassuming fool had put them all in such danger. He knew if he was left alone in the brig with him that he might do something he’d regret.

“You’re right,” Zuko said. “Post a guard detail on this door: no one goes in or out without my express permission. I’ll speak with him later. Good work, everyone. We can all rest easy knowing that this crisis is past us.”

He glared one more time at the man in the cell and then left. He needed to meditate, either before or after a long and strenuous training session. Then he resolved to sleep. The danger was past, for the time being.

Iroh only walked away from the brig after two trustworthy sailors had been left on guard duty. Word of Yuuta’s betrayal spread throughout the ship, and by dinner time it was all anyone was talking about. The prevailing mood among the crew was resentment and outrage—because of him, they’d lost precious shore leave and had to abandon the Setsujoku , which many of them had grown quite fond of. The other officers were relieved, even elated with how quickly and neatly the spy had been caught. Iroh allowed them their merriment, but took Captain Jee aside later on the bridge.

“Something on your mind, General?” Captain Jee asked.

“Only a feeling,” Iroh said. “The spy did not confess to having any collaborators, did he?”

“No, he didn’t,” Captain Jee said. “Why? Do you think there are others?”

“I am not sure,” Iroh said. “Only that it would be odd for an agent of the Ministry of Secrets to allow themselves to be detained so easily. Minister Kei is not usually so careless with his pawns.”

“Well, you heard his confession,” Captain Jee said. “He panicked. He’s been carefully camouflaged all this time, but even masters make mistakes.”

“Hm. Perhaps you’re right,” Iroh said, stroking his beard. “Perhaps I am being too suspicious. A calming cup of tea is what I need, I think. Good evening, Captain.”

“Good evening, General.”

But Iroh did not make himself a calming cup of tea. Instead, he went to the Master-at-Arms, who was reading a poetry book in the officer’s mess.

“How are you, this evening?” he asked, sitting down.

“I’m very well, thank you for asking,” the Master-at-Arms replied politely.

“That isn’t Hua Jia’s Matters of Spring , is it?” Iroh asked. “You have refined taste, indeed.”

“A field of wild grass and shrubs,” the Master-at-Arms intoned. “Grasping pins and thorns. But see!—white crown daisies bloom.”

“Such moving lines,” Iroh said. “I am also a fan. Recent events have recalled another of Hua Jia’s verses. Shall I recite it?”

“By all means,” the Master-at-Arms said.

“Swiftly do I strike, to grasp the green viper’s tail,” Iroh said. “Dragon’s jaws unseen.”

The Master-at-Arms frowned and closed the book. Iroh saw that he had taken his meaning.

“This man, Yuuta,” he said. “He must have had friends among the crew. I would like to speak with them.”

“Very well,” the Master-at-Arms said. “Shall I bring them to your cabin?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

He bowed and went to make arrangements. Only then did Iroh begin preparations for a pot of tea. Something sharp and bitter to hone his senses. It was going to be a long night.

Zuko thrust his open palms forward, a jet of sustained fire extending outward like a lance. He tightened his core and his breath, cutting it off before it scorched the walls of the third compartment hold. Grasping his hands together, he bent the lance into a pair of fiery whips. He cracked them once, twice, but on the third time the fire got away from him. He hissed, his left forearm blistering, and released his focus. The whips flashed and then died in a shower of sparks.

He’d noticed Sokka’s presence ten minutes ago, but had ignored him. When he hissed in pain, though, Sokka stepped forward involuntarily.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Zuko said. He was acutely aware of himself, of his body, under Sokka’s gaze. He cast about for the burn cream. “It’s just a burn.”

Silence fell on the hold as Zuko tossed aside his sweat-stained top. He’d prepared a bowl of water and a clean towel earlier, as well as bandages and burn cream, and then ordered that nobody disturb him unless it was an emergency. Sokka had probably disregarded the advance notice.

“What are you doing here?” Zuko asked, as he wiped the sweat from his neck and shoulders.

“I, uh,” Sokka began. “Spying. Obviously. Checking your bending form. Looks good. Real tight. Uh, I mean! Solid. Solid form.”

The burning Zuko felt had nothing to do with the throbbing in his wrist and forearm. He rubbed the burn cream on the spot until it had fully absorbed, and then applied more so he wouldn’t have to turn around.

“And are you a master firebender?” he quipped.

“I’ve seen a lot of firebenders, so I’d like to think I know a thing or two,” Sokka said, his tone half-defensive, half-challenging. Like he wasn’t sure if Zuko had been joking, and wouldn’t know what to do if he had been. He continued talking, of course. “But yours is different.”

“How so?” Zuko asked, although he knew that already. Uncle had taught him both the Closed Fist and the Open Hand. The fact that Sokka had noticed, however, was notable.

“Well, the way you hold your hands is different,” Sokka said. “And also, the way you move. It’s more…I don’t know how to describe it. Flowy?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zuko demanded, finally turning around. Sokka was waving his arms like he was in the middle of demonstrating what “flowy” meant, exactly, but he stopped before Zuko could criticize him.

“I mean, a lot of firebenders, they just punch and kick,” Sokka said, going back into a shadow boxing stance. “They’re all like, ‘yaaah!’ But you’re more like, ‘hah!’”

Sokka went from passably impersonating a common street thug menacing an invisible old lady to passably impersonating a drunk clown menacing an invisible old lady. Zuko snorted smoke, and hated himself for the rumbling laugh that followed.

“You look ridiculous,” Zuko said.

“Yeah, well, I’m just saying,” Sokka said with a smirk, back in his normal mode. “I’ve got an eye for these things.”

“Do you,” Zuko said, dubiously. He folded his arms. He may have flexed his biceps and chest on purpose. Sokka gulped.

“Yeah, duh,” he said. “I’m a world-traveling, highly-trained warrior. I notice things.”

“You notice…things,” Zuko said, mockingly. He took a few steps towards Sokka.

“Yeah. Things,” Sokka replied, standing his ground. “That’s what I said.”

“Things like what?” Zuko asked.

They were nearly chest to chest now. Zuko, gratifyingly, was still taller than Sokka by just enough that he could look down on him literally and figuratively with all the regal disdain he was heir to. Sokka licked his lips.

“Things like how you’re looming over my personal bubble,” Sokka said.

“I left orders that I not be disturbed except for an emergency,” Zuko growled. “This is not an emergency. You entered my bubble first.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Sokka said, his tone husky.

“You just don’t want to admit you like watching me,” Zuko said.

“Who says I like it?” Sokka retorted weakly. “I’m just here for the bending forms.”

“You’re not fooling me, Sokka,” Zuko said, leaning in ever so slightly.

“You’re delusional,” Sokka said. He turned his head away.

“It’s kind of sad how dumb you sound, denying the obvious,” Zuko replied with a smirk. Sokka’s face screwed up.

“Tui and La’s gills , shut up , I hate you,” Sokka said, grabbing Zuko by the back of his neck and pulling him down to kiss him.

It was sloppy. Clumsy, even. Sokka may have been an experienced kisser—Zuko assumed, at least—but he wasn’t showing it at all. They broke apart, and Sokka’s expression changed from defiant to horrified.

“Oh, seal chum, I shouldn’t have—that was stupid, sorry I—mmph!”

Zuko kissed him back, his body moving while his brain was still stunned by Sokka’s audacity. He grasped Sokka’s shirt front and pulled him off balance so that his hands landed on Zuko’s shoulders. He tilted his head slightly and captured Sokka’s lips again, pressing them firmly together.

Sokka melted.

Then he froze, and shoved Zuko away.

“Monkey feathers, what is wrong with me?” he cursed, straightening his clothes. “Um. Sorry. I should go.”

In an earlier time, Zuko might have let him, consumed as he was by his own shame. Instead of shame, though, he felt annoyance, which quickly blazed into indignation. He strode after Sokka and slammed his hand against the hold door, keeping it closed and preventing Sokka from leaving.

“Hey! Open the door!” Sokka said angrily.

“No,” Zuko growled.

“Don’t make me fight you, Jerk Prince,” Sokka snapped.

“ You came in here and kissed me ,” Zuko pointed out, his teeth bared. “Against my orders and without any explanation. If anyone’s the jerk here, it’s you!”

“Yeah, well, you kissed me back!” Sokka retorted. “Why don’t you explain your self!”

“What’s there to explain?” Zuko yelled. “I think I’m being perfectly clear.”

“Yeah, clear as fog!” Sokka yelled back. “You…you’re just…you’re so confusing!”

Zuko took a step back and crossed his arms, challenging Sokka to continue. The other man balled his hands into fists, gritting his teeth.

“I feel so confused around you! You look at me like I’m garbage, but you talk like we’re friends—shut up, yes, you do!” Sokka didn’t let Zuko object, he merely plowed onward. “You’ve saved my life, but sometimes I think you hate me, and then…that!”

He gestured helplessly towards the spot where they had kissed.

“You’re in love with my cousin,” Sokka said, deflating. His eyes went to the necklace. “And I’m still in love with Yue. Besides, you’re Fire Nation, and that still makes you one of the bad guys. You’re a prince, and I’m just…a guy with a boomerang.”

He sighed, shoulders dropping.

“This was a mistake. I’m not making any sense,” he said. “Just…let’s forget this happened, okay?”

“Are you going to let me have a say?” Zuko asked. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to happen here, but he felt honor-bound to clear up a few of Sokka’s misconceptions.

“Are you going to let me leave if I say no?” Sokka asked.

“No,” Zuko said.

“Then why did you ask!?” Sokka huffed. “Fine, speak your piece.”

“First of all,” Zuko began, and then stopped. He ran a hand over his head, suddenly at a loss for what to say. He sighed—overthinking wouldn’t help him here. “I don’t hate you. You annoy me, your words are vexing, and everything you do is a constant irritation.”

“Great, thanks, that’s what I wanted to hear,” Sokka snapped.

“Shut up, I’m not done,” Zuko growled. “I also think you’re a great warrior. You’re clever. You’re resourceful. You infiltrated Zhao’s capital ship without getting caught, and without you, we would never have discovered the spy in the first place. I admire you, Sokka. I have since the first moment I saw you. And yes, I also…feel desire towards you.”

Silence fell between them, and Zuko found it difficult to maintain eye contact any longer. Still, he refused to look away first. 

“I was going to say, way to make a compliment sound like an insult,” Sokka said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But that was probably the worst confession I’ve ever heard.”

“At least I’m being honest about my feelings,” Zuko snapped.

“I’m totally being honest!” Sokka retorted.

“No you aren’t. Just…look,” Zuko said, breaking eye-contact at last. “I truly have never wanted to be your friend. I always wanted something else, however unwise that is. There isn’t really any point in denying it any longer.”

“Always?” Sokka asked. “As in… always , always?”

“That’s what ‘always’ means,” Zuko rolled his eyes.

Sokka let out a breath and leaned against the hatch. He rubbed his elbow, gaze downcast. His eyes flicked up to the necklace.

“But what about Yura?” Sokka asked. Zuko touched the pink shell instinctively.

“Of course he’s still important to me,” he said. “But I gave up any right I had to a future with him.”

“Oh,” Sokka said.

They said nothing more. Zuko stepped back and allowed Sokka to open the door, hesitantly, and leave the hold. He spared Zuko one last glance before disappearing. Zuko looked down at the front of his trousers and thanked all the spirits that he’d tied his underwear snugly. Although he was already tired from training, he decided to continue until he was truly, fully exhausted. Until he could no longer clearly recall the feeling of Sokka’s hands on his shoulders, or Sokka’s breath on his face. Even so, though he dropped onto his futon and quickly fell asleep, his dreams gave him no respite.

Sokka went to the top deck and loitered by the railing. This far south, the nights were still cold, but not bitingly so. The waxing crescent moon looked down through a layer of clouds. He blew a raspberry and slumped further over the side.

“Dad, I hope you’re safe right now,” he said. “Wish you were here, though. I could use your advice.”

The ocean waves lapped at the side of the ship, dark but gentle. Maybe La was trying to console her forlorn child. Maybe Sokka was projecting his own ennui onto the water. He didn’t feel better either way. His heart was a confused maelstrom of feelings: desire and longing battled revulsion and fear; shame drowned with giddiness; the memory of Zuko’s touch spun him in circles. He was fighting for air alongside hundreds of faceless firebender helmets, broken spears, and ash-stained snow.

Sokka slid down so that he was sitting on the deck with his back to the sea and bonked his head against the railing a few times. He missed Aang and Katara. He missed Appa and Momo. He missed his dad, and Bato, and Gran Gran. He didn’t want to be alone with his feelings.

He wanted to regret kissing Zuko. In fact, he regretted not regretting it. Because not regretting it must mean that he was already over Yue, right?

Sokka hopped up and dusted himself off. There was nothing for it. Aang and Katara would catch up with them in a couple of days, and until then he’d just have to avoid Zuko and his unfairly perfect abs. He went to bed, being extra sure to lock the door to his berth, and slept more or less soundly.

Lieutenant Zan descended to the engine room to meet with Nikko, who was on watch that night. The third shift stokers and firemen were busy at work keeping the engine running at full steam. Nikko greeted her, and the two shouted over the steam pipes and piston sounds.

“What’s the problem?” Nikko asked.

“Take her down to half steam!” Lieutenant Zan replied. “Lookouts spotted some ice.”

In the western Mo Ce Sea, in the early spring, icebergs were not an uncommon sight as they drifted down from the Northern Sea. The lookouts had in fact been keeping a sharp eye out for the telltale signs of wavebreaks.

“Aye, ma’am!” Nikko said with a sharp salute. He badgered the stokers and firemen to get to work damping boilers 3 and 4. Lieutenant Zan left him to it.

She made her inspections of the holds and the deck, nodding to the lookouts and speaking in hushed tones with a few off-duty sailors who approached her about this or that. Overall, it was a much quieter evening than the previous one. She noted the order to cut steam in the log along with the report of the iceberg sighting, and then took over the helm while the helmsman got some much-needed rest.

Then, when she was alone on the bridge, she retrieved the pages of the Water Tribe boy’s journal from where she had secreted them with Captain Nobu’s old logbooks. She supposed she would have a few hours of uninterrupted reading before Captain Jee would come up to the bridge for the nightly report and his own inspections, which was plenty of time to memorize the journal’s contents.

Chapter Text

Houka 7, Mutsuki 6, Risshun

When Azula was 7, she asked her Uncle to teach her how to play pai sho. He had returned to the Capital for a brief visit before embarking on the campaign that would end with her cousin’s death, but he made an afternoon free to indulge her. She was quick to pick up the rules, and quick to notice when her Uncle was babying her. She ordered him to cease treating her like an infant. He proceeded to utterly crush her in the game, so she set the board on fire and stormed out, declaring that she hated her Uncle and never wanted to play again.

Three years later, she challenged him to a rematch.

“I must admit, I am surprised that you still remember the rules,” Uncle said, setting up the board. “Our last match ended somewhat… heatedly.”

“As the future Fire Lord, I must hone my mind with games of strategy,” Azula replied. When this did not satisfy her Uncle, she added: “Mai refuses to play, and Zuko has grown tired of always losing. I require a worthy opponent.”

“While I am flattered you hold me in such high esteem, I must remind you that it is Zuko who will one day inherit the throne,” Uncle said. This irritated her, and shamefully she allowed her scowl to show on her face. Father would never have tolerated the slip. Uncle, being foolish, sought to placate her. “Of course, you will still have a vital role to play in your brother’s court. A Fire Lord has many responsibilities that must be delegated, and requires trustworthy advisors.”

“I will not be taking orders from that dum dum,” Azula said haughtily. “Now, are we going to play or not?”

“Very well,” Uncle said. He dealt the tiles, and they played a round of four elements to decide who would start. Azula won the right of first move, and the game began. She had read Uncle’s book on pai sho—written after Ba Sing Se, and so mostly drivel about cultivating spiritual and worldly balance, but a useful tactical guide nonetheless—and studied with the best instructors in the Capital. She was fully confident in her skills.

“Hm. Hiroki’s Switch,” Uncle mused, eyeing the board. “An aggressive play. You have studied well.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Azula said with a smirk.

“Hiroki met his match in Lady Yun,” Uncle said, moving a tile and disrupting Azula’s formation. “He was too focused on the parts of the board, and failed to take in the garden as a whole.”

“You’re cheating!” Azula protested, but as she noted the board’s configuration, she realized she had made an error that cost her the harmony. She huffed and got on with it. That was not nearly the only trick up her sleeve. They were both two harmonies from victory when she initiated her finishing play.

“I must admit, this has been a challenging game,” she said, placing a knotweed tile near one of Uncle’s jasmine tiles, choking both of the harmonies it made. As knotweed was the accent tile associated with fire, it was only appropriate to facilitate her victory thus. “But it’s time to bring this match to an end.”

“I agree, it has been refreshing to play an opponent such as yourself,” Uncle said, smiling placidly. He moved a white lily closer to the choked jasmine, clearly setting up a new harmony. Azula disrupted this with a rhododendron tile she had been holding in reserve. “You have come such a long way in only a few short years. Your Mother would be proud.”

He moved the white lily again, forming a harmony with a white jade tile across the board. He then placed his last wheel tile between the knotweed and the rhododendron, shifting both tiles away. His jasmine bloomed once again, putting him up to seven harmonies. Azula clicked her tongue in annoyance—the comment about her Mother irked her.

“Mother never took much interest in my choice of hobbies,” she said. She moved a rose tile into the formation, creating harmony with the rhododendron and disharmony with Uncle’s Jasmine. She now had seven harmonies to his six, and his jasmine was surrounded.

“That is a pity,” Uncle said, shaking his head seriously. “For my part, I’m sorry I only learned of your continued interest in pai sho today. There is much I could have taught you.”

“Like what?” Azula asked, folding her arms and leaning back smugly. “In one move, this game is mine. You’ve no tiles left to cultivate, and your accent tiles are all spent. You should admit defeat. I promise I won’t rub it in your face at dinner too much.”

Uncle burst out laughing. This was not the reaction she had expected, and that annoyed her to no end.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“Oh, nothing,” Uncle said, wiping his eyes. “You remind me so much of my Brother when he was young. So confident and self-assured! You would have made a fine Crown Princess.”

“Stop prattling, Old Man,” Azula said. “Do you concede?”

“Look again at the board,” Uncle said. Azula rolled her eyes and looked. The configuration had not magically changed.

“And? What am I meant to see?” she asked.

“The white lotus,” Uncle said. “It is not used much these days—competitive pai sho masters prefer the dragon tile—but never underestimate it.”

Azula frowned as her Uncle slid the white lotus tile two points over so that it sat next to both her rose and his jasmine, inflicting a disharmony on her and seizing the final eighth harmony for himself. He had won. It had never been close.

He sat back in his seat and smiled at her. She was livid. But she was also no longer a child, prone to setting fires when she didn’t get her way.

“I demand a rematch,” she said.

“And you shall have one,” he replied. A servant appeared in the door, eyes respectfully downcast. “But not now. It seems we are being summoned.”

“Don’t think you can wriggle your way out of this!” Azula said. “I will have my revenge!”

“I look forward to it,” Uncle replied, and the two were compelled to go to the dining room for supper.

Azula returned to herself in the present. She was overseeing the daily officer’s meeting, but not really paying attention. They had been making good time. Daigo’s ship was keeping pace some leagues away, and signaled at regular intervals. So far there hadn’t been any sightings, but they had kept close to the path Zuko and the Avatar were meant to take.

“Your Highness,” her Captain said. “Perhaps we should widen our search. It’s possible your treacherous brother has changed course.”

“No,” Azula said. “You don’t know him like I do. He seized the Tamushiba in order to throw us off his trail. He has no reason to think that he is still being followed, and no reason to change his route.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” her Captain said, bowing.

Azula resisted an eye roll. Dealing with the incompetent morons she was saddled with was the most difficult part of this mission. The lookout shouted from his post.

“Smoke on the horizon! South southwest!”

Her Captain pulled out a spyglass and searched for the smoke, which was still too far for Azula to distinguish from the other clouds in the sky.

“It’s a Fire Nation ship, for sure,” he said. “Helmsman, change course: south southwest. Lieutenant, signal Commander Daigo. Find out if he’s seen it and can identify the ship.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Your Highness, what are your orders if it’s the Tamushiba ?” her Captain asked.

“Match their speed,” Azula said. “But do not engage. We have to drive them towards the trap before we can close the jaws.”

“I understand, Your Highness,” her Captain said. “It shall be done.”

Azula smiled, scanning the horizon until the soot smoke of a distant coal-burning ship came into view. Her plan was beginning to fall into place.

Zuko was roused from sleep by someone who would soon pay dearly for their intrusion pounding loudly on his door. He threw off his blanket, yanked on a red robe, and then took a deep breath before calmly ripping the door open.

“What do you want!?” he yelled. It was Taiyou.

“Your Highness, an urgent matter has come up,” he stammered.

“If it’s so urgent, then just say it!” Zuko barked. “Otherwise I am going back to sleep.”

“Your Highness, it’s already mid-morning,” Taiyou said. Zuko squinted at him in disbelief, so he hurried to relay his so-called urgent message so he could retreat from the range of Zuko’s ire. “Two ships were spotted northeast of us. Fire Navy ships.”

“So?”

“Your Highness, they appear to be following us.”

Minutes later, fully-dressed, Zuko strode onto the bridge with his retainers in tow. Captain Jee, Lieutenant Touma, and Uncle were gathered on the lookout platform, passing a spyglass between them and talking in tense voices.

“There can be no mistaking that profile,” Uncle said as Zuko approached. “It is the Powerful . It seems Princess Azula herself has decided to lead the chase.”

“Let me see that,” Zuko said, holding out his hand for the spyglass. He trained it on the northern horizon where a pair of soot clouds marked the locations of two pursuing Fire Navy ships. The one due north of them had the typical profile of a heavy cruiser, and did indeed seem to be sailing towards them. The other, further east, glinted gold in the sun. Only one ship in the whole navy was permitted such embellishment: the royal sloop.

“It’s possible they have not identified us,” Captain Jee said. “But it’s too dangerous to take that risk.”

“Agreed,” Zuko said, lowering the spyglass. He gripped the railing of the lookout platform, knuckles going white. “Meeting room. All officers. Now .”

Tensions were high in the meeting room, and tempers were flaring even before the meeting began. Zuko silenced the bickering with a bellowed, “Enough!” and ordered that a chart be rolled out on the table.

“What’s our position?” he asked.

“Here,” Captain Jee said.

“That can’t be right.” Zuko furrowed his brow in confusion. “That’s far too close to Hong Long Province. We should be much further along than that.”

“The lookouts reported icebergs in the night,” Captain Jee said. “Lieutenant Zan ordered the engine room to cut steam until visibility improved and the danger was passed.”

“A prudent measure,” Uncle said, glancing over towards Lieutenant Zan out of the corner of his eye. “But one that has cost us precious time and space. For now, the seas are clear, so there is no reason we should not be at full steam.”

“We brought the engines up to three-quarter steam this morning,” the Chief Engineer said. “I’ll have the fourth boiler lit after this meeting is concluded. Your Highness, I should also mention that if we are being pursued we have an emergency measure, although it is risky.”

“Speak,” Zuko said.

“It would be possible to overclock the engines for an extra burst of speed,” he said. “Inadvisable for more than a few minutes, but if we needed to put some distance between us and the Powerful , it is an option.”

“In a straight chase, I would be more concerned about the heavy cruiser,” Lieutenant Touma said. “The Powerful doesn’t run heavily armed; their only real option is to close and board us, if they want to catch us. Besides, surely the royal sloop doesn’t have the same engine power as a top-line Fire Navy vessel.”

“It does not,” Uncle said. “However, the royal sloop is not as heavy, nor as deep on the draft. She does not need to have strong engines to match the speed of the fastest Fire Navy ships. Even so, I do not believe Azula means to catch us in a chase.”

“What do you mean?” Zuko asked.

“Your sister is very clever, and a keen tactician,” Uncle said, folding his hands in his sleeves with a grim expression. “She must know the relative capabilities of her own vessels, and also the dispositions of every Fire Navy ship in the Mo Ce Sea. She means to chase us into a trap. The question is: where, and with what ships?”

They all looked at the sea chart. Lieutenant Touma and the Master-at-Arms both tapped their chins in identical, thoughtful looks.

“Garsai is too far away to lend immediate aid,” Lieutenant Touma said. “But ships there could be deployed just in case. We won’t be able to lose them by steering towards the colonies.”

“Any of these ports, if they have ships docked, could be called on to aid the chase,” the Quartermaster said, sweeping her hand over the southwest tip of the western peninsula. “If I were the princess, I would have sent orders to the bases in Kawasemi-minato and Soukai-minato to mobilize the ships there, if I meant to muster an entire fleet against us.”

“I think we have to conclude one other thing,” the Boatswain added, looking at the map. “If the Powerful has found us, then the princess must have known we would continue our planned route to Omashu. That means the best place for all those ships to intercept us would be…here.”

He traced his fingers along their route, and found where two shortest-time routes from the Fire Navy bases in Hong Long Province intersected with it. It was an open stretch of sea, but one they would reach within the day at full steam.

“That is assuming, of course, that the orders to mobilize and pursue were dispatched yesterday morning, arrived by midday, and the ships departed before nightfall. We may arrive there and find a fleet waiting for us, or…nothing.”

“If I know my sister, she won’t leave it up to chance,” Zuko said. “We need an alternative route. There’s also the matter of the Avatar to consider.”

“If we deflect westward,” the Boatswain said, tracing paths from Midoriyama Island. “Then we could intercept the Avatar ahead of schedule.”

“But then we have a fleet bearing down at us at full steam while we are transporting the Fire Nation’s most wanted man,” the Quartermaster said. “Or, child, I suppose.”

“Perhaps, but if we make them miss their rendezvous, then we can slip through a divided force rather than attempt to evade a united one,” the Boatswain argued.

“A divided force can cover a wider area,” the Quartermaster pointed out.

“But we have actual odds of victory if we get into a one-on-one or one-on-two engagement,” the Boatswain argued.

“Our priority is to do everything we can to avoid an engagement,” Captain Jee said, leaning over the map and pointing to a spot marked Lion Turtle Rocks. “This island chain here appears to have plenty of shoals and reefs we could use to our advantage. Your Highness, I propose we combine our approaches: change heading to avoid any supporting ships coming from Kawasemi-minato or Soukai-minato, and approach these islands from the west. We can lose the heavy cruiser among the shoals, and if need be we can engage the Powerful with the intent to cripple her.”

There was shocked silence around the table. Zuko frowned, his discomfort plain.

“I don’t like the idea of firing upon my sister,” he said quietly. More loudly, he announced: “We will go with Captain Jee’s plan. Double the watches: I want to know what Azula and her lackeys are doing at all times. If any other ships appear, we will change tack.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The officers all stood to leave, bowing perfunctorily as they went. Zuko did not spare any thought to reprimanding them for apparent lack of proper respect. Uncle remained, as did Jin Hui and Taiyou.

“Uncle, what happens now?” Zuko asked.

“We must trust in your officers and crew, Prince Zuko,” Uncle said, although he stared hard at the door as if expecting someone to come through. “And prepare for any outcome.”

“Azula will not have neglected her training,” Zuko said, rubbing his forehead. “Not that she ever needed it to impress Father or Grandfather.”

“Your sister is talented, yes,” Uncle said. “But she had to train just as much as you did to reach her level of skill.”

“Then I’d better not waste any more time,” Zuko said, standing up. “If she catches us, then I’ll need to deal with her myself.”

“Very well,” Uncle said. “Jin Hui, assemble the firebenders in the training area in compartment three. We may only have one day to prepare, so we had better make the most of it.”

“Yes, General,” Jin Hui said with a bow. He left first, while Zuko returned to his cabin to make preparations of his own.

Iroh pulled the Master-at-Arms aside on his way down to compartment three. The ship was on high alert, and sailors rushed to their stations to prepare for a coming attack. Indeed, the Master-at-Arms was gathering the artillerists together to prepare the trebuchets for deployment. Iroh waited until they were alone in the corridor.

“General? Is something the matter?” the Master-at-Arms asked, voice low. “Is this regarding the person of interest?”

“Indeed,” Iroh replied. “Our guest was indeed absent for an hour, as he claimed. His friends said they found him asleep in his berth, clutching an empty wineskin. His speech was slurred and his movements were uncoordinated.”

“It’s possible to fake drunkenness,” the Master-at-Arms said.

“It is, but they all said it was not the first time he had been found thus, and several of them admitted to lying to the Boatswain on his behalf during inspections,” Iroh admitted. “I spoke to the Quartermaster this morning and was told that thefts of wine have been a regular problem since we began to take on new crew, and not simply when we stopped in port. Our guest has a drinking problem. Now that seems like an inconvenient habit for an alleged spy to cultivate.”

“Then our person of interest is still at large,” the Master-at-Arms said grimly.

“I fear that may be the case,” Iroh said. “I shall speak with our guest shortly. Do not breathe a word of this to anyone until I have more proof.”

“I understand, General,” the Master-at-Arms said, bowing. He hurried away, acting to the best of his ability as if nothing additional was out of the ordinary. Iroh descended to the orlop deck and paused outside the door into the third compartment. Zuko expected him to help with his training; however, he could not in good conscience allow the possibility that the spy had not been caught, and that Yuuta had somehow been coerced into taking the blame, to go unexamined. He turned and went to the brig.

Sokka sat on an unfamiliar bunk, holding the charred remains of his journal cover in his hands. Something about the spy’s capture yesterday still didn’t sit right with him. He turned the leather over and over, trying to figure out what the problem was. He opened it, which caused a few more pieces to flake off, and stared at the warped spine. He’d seen so many fires in his life, but he’d only ever seen a few books burn. It was not quick—the covers curled up, the spines cracked, and the pages flaked off as the fire slowly ate its way to the center.

And that’s when it hit him.

If Yuuta had been in a hurry, there would be more paper bits, even if they just crumbled to ash. But there was nothing, almost like the paper had been removed before the cover was burned. It wasn’t much, but it was something Sokka’s mind could latch onto. He jumped to his feet and ran outside, and was almost immediately bowled over by a pair of running sailors.

“Hey, watch it!” he yelped. They ignored him. He grabbed another sailor who was running in the same direction. “Where’s the fire?”

“Huh?” the sailor asked, momentarily dumbfounded. “Don’t touch me, water rat.”

“Fine,” Sokka said, stepping aside. “Have you seen Zuko? Sorry, Prince Zuko?”

“No,” the sailor said, and then pushed past him.

“There’s no need to be rude,” Sokka grumbled. He went upstairs to the crew mess, but it wasn’t mealtime. Out on the top deck, lookouts were stationed, yelling reports to each other over the crashing waves, the high ocean wind, and the rumble of the engines.

“Holding position!”

“Blue skies east!”

“Iceberg, southeast!”

Sokka’s frown deepened—there were more lookouts than usual. He went to the side and leaned over, trying to get a view of what the fuss was about. His eyes widened when he saw the soot clouds behind them. He grabbed one of the lookouts and pointed.

“Is that what I think it is!?” he yelped.

“If you think it’s a pair of Fire Navy ships chasing us, then yes,” the lookout said, peeling Sokka’s hand off his arm. “Now let go, I’ve got a job to do.”

“Right, sorry,” Sokka said, backing away.

He ran up to Zuko’s cabin, but there was no answer. Zuko also wasn’t on the bridge, but Lieutenant Touma took pity on Sokka and pointed him in the direction of the third compartment hold. When he got there, however, he was unequivocally denied entry.

“But I have to talk to Zuko!” Sokka said, waving his arms. “It’s important.”

“His Highness is in training right now,” Haram, the firebender with pretty hair and really firm muscles, said. “And I’m sorry, but he has ordered that you, specifically, are not to be allowed in to see him.”

“But it’s an emergency!” Sokka said.

“Is the ship sinking?” Haram asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Sokka said.

“Have we been captured by the Fire Navy?”

“No, but—”

“Then it’s not an emergency,” Haram said. “According to His Highness. I’m sorry.”

Sokka was miffed. He was offended. Zuko was avoiding him now? It was supposed to be the other way around! The only reason Sokka was seeking him out at all was because the spy was more important than…certain things Sokka did not want to think about too much.

“Fine, if that’s how he’s going to be, then I’ll solve the problem on my own!” Sokka declared, turning around and storming out. 

He went down to the brig. Maybe he could talk his way past the two guards there, and then interrogate Yuuta about the journal. When he arrived, however, he was surprised to hear the voice of Uncle Iroh coming from inside the cell.

“So let me see if I understand you correctly,” Uncle Iroh said. “You went ashore in Yu Dao to report to your handler, and when you came back you stole a bottle of wine and poured it on yourself so others would think you were drunk.”

“How many times do I have to repeat myself? Yes, that’s what happened!” Yuuta’s voice sounded tired and exasperated.

“And yet, when I spoke to Mina, she said the bottle was half-full, and you were fully asleep. I asked her to spare no detail, and she did not mention you being soaked with wine.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” The reply was sulky and unconvincing, even to Sokka. He waved to the guards.

“Hey, can I speak with the prisoner, please?”

“No one comes in without the prince’s express say-so,” one guard said.

“It’s really important, though,” Sokka began, but then the door opened.

“Sokka?” Uncle Iroh raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“I had some questions for Yuuta,” Sokka said, retrieving the burned journal cover from his bag and showing it to Uncle Iroh. “About this.”

“I see,” Uncle Iroh said. He addressed the two guards. “You may allow him in. I will take the blame from my nephew.”

“Yes, General,” the guard said, and allowed Sokka through.

Yuuta was hunched sullenly on a low bench near a chamber pot, which was full. An empty wash basin and a tray of bowls sat near the door. Sokka wrinkled his nose at the scene, but joined Iroh sitting opposite him.

“So you brought the water rat in?” Yuuta said with a huff. “What a waste of time.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sokka said, showing him the burnt journal cover. “I wanted to talk about this.”

“What’s that?” Yuuta asked, brow furrowed.

“It’s the journal you stole,” Sokka said impatiently. Yuuta blinked, and then nodded slowly.

“I already told them,” he said. “I threw it in the furnace.”

“Can you prove that?” Sokka asked.

“Yeah, ask Sai, she’s the stoker that saw me do it,” Yuuta said. Uncle Iroh nodded when Sokka gave him a questioning look. That changed things a bit, but not enough to throw him off the trail.

“Fine. How many pages did it have?” Sokka asked.

“I don’t know,” Yuuta said obstinately. “A couple dozen, maybe.”

“Mhm, mhm,” Sokka said, nodding faux-sagely. “And what did I write on page 4?”

“How should I know?” Yuuta demanded. “I was in a hurry. I didn’t have time to read cover-to-cover.”

“So you don’t know what I wrote in here?” Sokka asked.

“I have no idea,” Yuuta said.

“You’re lying,” Sokka said, grinning like a shark. Uncle Iroh blinked in surprise, as did Yuuta. “If you were the spy, you would’ve read my journal to see if I had written anything that might incriminate you or lead you to Aang.”

“Yeah, well, why would I want to know anything about the Avatar?” Yuuta said, but it was too late. Sokka smelled blood.

“I think you’re not the spy,” he said. “I think you’re helping them so they can keep sneaking around. I think the real spy took the pages out of my journal before giving it to you to throw into the fire. That’s why you don’t know what I wrote!”

Yuuta swallowed, his throat bobbing.

“Agni’s flaming breath,” he said, in awe. “How’d you figure all that out?”

“So it’s true?” Uncle Iroh asked. “You might as well tell us. Your story is compelling, but inconsistent. It would be better to give your confession to us than to my nephew. You know how volatile his temperament can be.”

Yuuta looked between the two of them, his bravado cracking. Then, he broke.

“Lieutenant Zan,” he said. “It’s Lieutenant Zan. She told me to throw the journal cover into the furnace and pretend to be the spy. She said if I cooperated with her, she’d make sure I would be pardoned, but that if I didn’t, she’d kill me. She said it was her word against mine. I didn’t have a choice!”

“I was afraid of something like this,” Uncle Iroh said.

“She had two chances when she went ashore to report to her spy leader,” Sokka said. “When she was at the animal market, and when she disappeared to go get Takeshi. He was buying a gift at the market.”

“She has been right under our nose all this time,” Uncle Iroh said. He turned to Sokka. “We will need to gather proof of her misdeeds if we are to persuade the others.”

“But Yuuta confessed, and we’ve pretty much put together what happened,” Sokka said.

“This is his second confession, and to anyone else it would sound like he is simply trying to smear an officer’s reputation to save himself,” Uncle Iroh said. “And Lieutenant Zan has been with us for more than three years. She will know exactly what to say and to convince the others of her innocence.”

“The pages!” Sokka said, snapping his fingers. “If she still has them, and I can find them, that would prove it’s her!”

“Then we will need to search for them without alerting her,” Uncle Iroh said. He and Sokka left the brig, and Uncle Iroh addressed the two guards. “You will say nothing of what you heard here. Do you understand?”

“Yes, General,” they said, straightening up slightly.

“We will act tonight,” Uncle Iroh said. “When Lieutenant Zan takes over for Lieutenant Touma, I will distract her. You will search her cabin. If the pages are not there, we will have to look elsewhere. You must take great care not to alert her of your activities.”

“Got it,” Sokka said. He was remembering the many times as a child he’d snuck into the smoke tent to nab strips of seal jerky under the noses of his dad and the others. A master of stealth he was not, but he was reasonably good at covering his own tracks.

Zuko, exhausted from the day’s training, took his dinner in the officer’s mess. He scanned over the latest reports on the position of the Powerful and the other heavy cruiser following them. The two ships had gained on them somewhat, but were keeping their distance. Zuko doubted he would be able to sleep that night, despite his fatigue. He took another bite of rice and sighed.

“Care to explain to me why you’re here?”

Sokka sat next to him, shoveling braised fish into his mouth. At the moment, they were the only two in the mess. Sokka paused mid-bite, and they both made eye contact. They blushed and looked away at the same time. Sokka swallowed before he replied.

“Am I not supposed to be?” His tone was petulant. Zuko gritted his teeth.

“This is the officer’s mess,” he said. “Officer’s. Not irritating Water Tribe peasants.”

“Is that a fact? Which deck is the irritating Water Tribe peasants mess on, then?” Sokka asked, rolling his eyes. “Besides, you’re not an officer, either.”

“I’m the Fire Prince,” Zuko snapped.

“And I’m Sokka, nice to meet you,” Sokka retorted.

Zuko bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snorting. It would be undignified. Sokka’s joke wasn’t funny. The stupid face he was making wasn’t endearing. He opted for simply shaking his head and finishing his soup, and tried to ignore Sokka’s blossoming grin.

“Hey, I almost got you to laugh,” he said, poking Zuko in the arm. “And here I thought you were completely humorless.”

“I put up with your cousin,” Zuko said, rolling his eyes. “He’s funnier than you.”

“He is not!” Sokka gasped in outrage. “Name one funny joke he’s ever told! He wouldn’t know funny if it was a face-grabbing duck-topus trying to eat his nose!”

Zuko bit the inside of his cheek harder, but he failed to suppress the single wheeze that escaped through his nose. Sokka noticed, and doubled down.

“He’s so un-funny, he once sent a polar bear dog into an early hibernation,” Sokka said. “His jokes are so bad, when he’s out fishing the fish jump into his boat to get him to shut up and leave. His sense of humor is so obvious, you could stand him on the shore to warn passing ships. He’s so dense, his head could crack winter ice.”

And like that, Zuko’s defenses failed. He laughed. It wasn’t an unrestrained belly-laugh, which is what Sokka had probably been trying to provoke, but it wasn’t a voiceless chuckle, either. Sokka was looking at him, elbow on the table, the picture of self-satisfaction.

“And that’s how you do it,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Water Tribe style.”

“Yura’s still funnier,” Zuko said.

“Yeah, but I got you to laugh, so I win,” Sokka huffed. Zuko shook his head, and they went back to eating.

“You know, I’m surprised you even bothered to try,” Zuko said between bites. “I expected you to avoid me after last night.”

“Zuko, we were doing so well,” Sokka lamented. “Why did you have to bring that up?”

“You’re nervous about something,” Zuko said, accusingly.

“Your sister is hot on our tail,” Sokka said. “Katara and Aang are out there, probably in danger. I’m doing fine, actually.”

“I won’t let her capture the Avatar,” Zuko said.

“You know it really bothers him that you don’t call him by his name,” Sokka said, rounding on Zuko suddenly. “Yeah, he’s the Avatar, we all know that, but he’s also Aang, my friend. I don’t go around calling you Fire Prince all the time.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Zuko asked.

“...of course you’d say that,” Sokka said with a snort. “Why did I expect any different?”

“I told you, we’re not friends,” Zuko said.

“There you go with that again,” Sokka said.

“Shut up, we’re not!” Zuko snapped. “If he wants to delude himself with whatever fantasy he likes, then he’s free to do so. Until a few months ago, he was just a target for me to hunt and capture. Then he was someone I had to protect from Zhao. Now he’s an ally. Where in all of that would we have room for friendship?”

“Oh, yeah?” Sokka retorted. “Well, a few months ago, Katara and I were just minding our own business until Aang showed up in an iceberg, and ever since then we’ve been in all kinds of death-defying situations. And we’re all friends!”

“And what does any of that have to do with me?” Zuko yelled.

“You’re such a jerk! So what are we, then?” Sokka demanded, gesturing between the two of them.

“We are not now, nor have we ever been,” Zuko said, getting in Sokka’s face. “Nor will we ever be friends. And you know that.”

“That’s a shame,” Sokka said. “I kind of like being friends with the people I, uh…you know.”

“Well then,” Zuko said. “Let’s settle for being allies.”

He grabbed his food tray and stood up, striding to the door. He paused in front of it, and then turned slightly to look back at Sokka. But what else did he have to say? They’d been laughing, and now they were both upset. It was his fault. Rather than attempt an apology that wouldn’t go over well, he simply left.

Sokka waited until the corridor was empty before sneaking towards Lieutenant Zan’s cabin. She was supposedly up on the bridge, being distracted by Uncle Iroh. Captain Jee was asleep in his cabin. Lieutenant Touma would go to sleep soon, as well, although from the sounds coming from his doorway he was still up. Sokka crept quietly past, and eased Lieutenant Zan’s door open.

The cabin had belonged to one of the Tamushiba’s previous officers, and as such still had many things from its previous occupant. Sokka shut the door behind him, thankful that the officers’ quarters had gaslights to see by. He began carefully sifting through Lieutenant Zan’s things by their dull red glow. 

It was hard to say which things were hers, though: there was a sea chest of clothing which could have been described as feminine, but there was also a small collection of blades wrapped in leather hanging from the wall. There was a stack of books by the futon, some of which looked recently-read, but none of which seemed to contain secret codes or hidden missives. There was nothing underneath the futon. There were many items with the Fire Nation flame on them, such as a full-length wall hanging of the flag, a set of stamps and seals, and an armor polish kit, but again, it was hard to say who they belonged to.

Suddenly, he heard a noise: there were running footsteps outside. Sokka stopped dead, held his breath, and listened. Then he heard low voices: a sailor talking, and Lieutenant Touma replying. He pressed his ear to the door and caught the very end.
“I will be on the bridge shortly. Pass the message on to the Chief Engineer.”

Sokka looked around the room again, frustrated. The pages weren’t here. He listened again, and heard Lieutenant Touma exit his cabin and climb the midship stairwell. Sokka quietly followed after. He was almost to the stairwell, however, when the gaslights winked out, plunging the ship into darkness. He held his breath, but he did not hear pounding feet that might presage an attack. He groped to the stairwell and eased his way down. More footsteps came from above. He looked up, and saw lamplight on the wall of the next floor landing. Panicking, he snuck more quickly, dismounting the stairs at a random deck and going for the nearest door that wasn’t locked.

He was brought up short by the angry, flame-lit face of Zuko.

“What are you—?”

“Shh!” Sokka clapped a hand over Zuko’s mouth and shushed him frantically. The footsteps were getting closer. The lamp was not yet visible on the landing, but it would be soon. Zuko pulled Sokka into his cabin, glared at him to be silent, and then left. Sokka was in darkness again, but Zuko didn’t bother to lower his voice.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“Your Highness, I was just about to fetch you,” said Lieutenant Touma. “I ordered the ship-wide blackout. We spotted several ship lights approaching from the east.”

“I see,” Zuko said. “I will be on the bridge shortly to assess the situation for myself.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Lieutenant Touma said.

Zuko returned and shut the door behind him. He transferred the fire in his hand to an oil lamp, and then stared expectantly at Sokka. There was a stifling, awkward silence.

“Well?” Zuko demanded.

“Well, what?” Sokka replied.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

“Maybe,” Sokka said. “I’m trying not to get caught, so could you please keep your voice down?”

“Get caught doing what?” Zuko asked, folding his arms. Sokka sighed—how much should he tell Zuko? Uncle Iroh said they needed proof. Zuko might take him at his word…but was that a good idea?

“Your Uncle and I don’t think Yuuta’s the only spy,” he said at last. “Shh! Don’t say anything! I was looking for proof, but secretly, you know?”

“What makes you think there’s another spy?” Zuko asked, after a visible effort not to erupt in anger.

“Yuuta’s story was full of holes,” Sokka said. “And the pages from my journal are missing.”

“It was thrown into a furnace,” Zuko said, nonplussed. “Surely the pages all burned.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Sokka said. “Yuuta didn’t even look at them, though. He had my journal for hours. He’s a spy! But he didn’t even glance at the first couple of pages? It’s suspicious.”

“So you’re looking for the pages,” Zuko said.

“If they still exist,” Sokka said. “But I’d bet my whole village the spy has them.”

“...fine,” Zuko said. “I won’t get in your way. But we’re in the middle of an emergency. Whatever you have to do, don’t get in our way, either.”

“You got it, Zuko,” Sokka said.

Zuko nodded, and then went to his sea chest to change out of his sleep clothes. Sokka did his best not to stare, but the act of trying not to look made him more acutely aware of the sounds. The rustle of fabric being removed and dropped on the floor inflamed his imagination, and he peeked just enough to see Zuko, stripped down to his underwear, bend over to grab something gray from the sea chest. Sokka bit his lip hard as heat crept up his cheeks. He watched Zuko pull on a gray pair of pants and a shirt, all the while resolutely not looking Sokka’s way.

“I’m going to turn out the light when I go,” Zuko said over his shoulder as he fixed his belt. Then he shrugged on his long red jacket. Sokka pretended like he hadn’t been creepily staring as he turned around at last. “Wait in here until I’m gone.”

“Okay,” Sokka said.

Zuko tarried for a moment, like he wanted to say something else before thinking better of it. He went to the door and bent out the lamplight with a flick of his wrist. Sokka let out a shaky breath.

“This is bad,” he groaned with his hands covering his face. “This is really bad.”

Lieutenant Zan, Uncle, and the Boatswain were all on the bridge when he arrived. A single lamp illuminated the room, casting everyone in a dim light. Outside, the waxing crescent moon peered through a cloudy night sky.

“Report,” Zuko ordered.

“A small task force appeared in the east just after sundown, visible by their lamps,” Lieutenant Zan said. “We counted three ships altogether. The Powerful and its escort are of course still in pursuit.”

“It seems your calculations were wrong,” Zuko said to the Boatswain. “We’re miles west of our original heading, and yet here is the fleet waiting for us.”

“Chasing us, Your Highness,” the Boatswain corrected. “They are chasing us. I must have miscalculated their speed, or the rapidity with which they received their orders.”

“Lieutenant Touma ordered a total blackout,” Uncle said. “Given the weather and calm conditions, we may be able to slip away in the darkness.”

“Are we in danger of striking anything?” Zuko asked.

“Stray icebergs, nothing more,” the Boatswain said. “We’re in open ocean. There are no islands for a hundred miles.”

“Change course,” Zuko said. “Return to our original heading. They’ll pass behind us, and we will avoid detection.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the Helmsman said. He turned the wheel, and the Tamushiba turned southwest. The enemy ships’ lights were now visible through the glass.

“I’ll double the watch tonight,” the Boatswain said.

The next few hours were tense. Zuko willed himself to remain awake, fearing what he might miss if he gave in to his fatigue. The ship lights moved closer. Then they were behind them to the north. And then they retreated into the west. Zuko let out a breath once it became clear they had not been noticed.

“I will retire for the night,” he said. “Wake me if there are any changes.”

“Sleep well, Prince Zuko,” Uncle said, yawning. “I think it’s also time I turned in.”

“Lieutenant Zan, the ship is yours,” Zuko said.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she replied.

The bridge was quiet when Lieutenant Zan sent the Helmsman to bed. The lights were still visible, but they were distant flickering points near the horizon. She locked the wheel in place and went to make her rounds.

She bowed in greeting to the Boatswain as he turned in for the night, and checked in with each of the lookouts, dismissing a few of them now that the immediate danger was past, and ordering the rest to keep an eye out ahead for any icebergs. The lamps would remain dark, and any sailors caught with lights on above decks would be immediately punished.

After checking in with the engine room, she returned to the top deck. A single ship light still shone in the west. She climbed the midship stairwell to the signal room and ignited the lamp. 

Her message was brief: return original course. Do not respond .

She transmitted it twice and then doused the lamp. Afterwards, she ascended to the bridge. She was surprised to find Sokka there, back hunched over an oil lamp as he poked around the cabinets where the charts and logbooks were kept.

“What are you doing?” she asked. He froze, and then straightened up.

“Nothing! Uh, I got…lost on my way to the bathroom,” he said, giving her a winning smile. She raised her eyebrow.

“There are toilets downstairs,” she said. “Do you need me to show you?”

“No, that’s okay, I think I can find them,” Sokka said, sliding past her. “I must’ve walked right past them. My mistake! I’ll get going.”

Lieutenant Zan watched him go. Then she went to check the cabinet where he’d been snooping.

A gentle knock woke Azula from her slumber. She quashed the immediate instinct to incinerate the fool who had the audacity to disturb her, knowing that even the idiots she employed would only do so if they deemed it important enough. Her fury would be reserved until it was determined whether or not she agreed.

“Enter,” she called without sitting up.

“Pardon the intrusion, Your Highness,” Mion called softly. “I bring a message from the captain.”

Azula held out her hand imperiously, and as expected Mion delivered the written note directly to her. She then sat up, and read it by the light of her lady-in-waiting’s lamp. She smiled.

“This is excellent news,” she said. “Remind me later to give Captain Ran a commendation.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Mion said, bowing. Azula kicked her sheets back and jumped out of bed, surprising Mion. “Your Highness?”

“I’m feeling quite well-rested,” Azula said. “Fetch me my clothes, so I may present myself on the bridge.”

Once she was dressed and groomed, she strode onto the bridge. Her captain was awake and in discussion with a few of his subordinates.

“Your report, Captain, if you please,” Azula said, taking up her position at the head of the table.

“We have been coordinating with Captain Ran and Commander Daigo,” her captain said. “Since the Tamushiba slipped past us before our spy was able to relay their message, we are considering our position carefully.”

“Very good,” Azula said, looking over the sea chart. “My brother is helpfully walking right into our trap. We’ve not a moment to lose.”

“Commander Daigo is of the opinion that one or two of our ships should continue to give chase, Your Highness,” her captain ventured. “While the others make for a new rendezvous point.”

“No. Let him believe he has escaped us for now,” Azula said. “We shall attach ourselves to Captain Ran’s task force. Chart a course to the Lion Turtle Rocks. It is imperative that we arrive there first.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” her captain said, bowing smartly.

Azula smiled. The thrill of each piece falling into place was quite invigorating. Whoever the spy was aboard Zuko’s ship deserved a medal.

Jia was finishing up her late-night rounds when there was a soft knock on the door. She wiped her hands on a towel and went to answer it. It didn’t sound urgent, but she was tired and ready to sleep herself.

“Lieutenant Zan, what can I do for you?” she asked, seeing the lieutenant standing outside.

“I wonder if I might have some sleep medicine,” she said. “I’ve been having trouble falling asleep these past few mornings.”

“You should’ve come by earlier,” Jia said reprovingly, going to the medicine cabinet. She took down a small bottle, transferring some of its contents into a smaller vial.

“Sorry,” Lieutenant Zan said, taking the vial and giving Jia a rueful smile. “I didn’t have time before.”

“Now remember,” Jia said. “Only a few drops are needed to relax your mind and body for rest. If you take too much, you’ll be out like a light and who knows when you’ll wake up? Portioned carefully, that should last you a week.”

“Thank you,” Lieutenant Zan said, pocketing the vial. “That’s more than enough.”

“Well, you need your rest the same as anyone,” Jia said. “To be honest, I try not to think about what happens outside the infirmary these days. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I focus myself on the task at hand,” Lieutenant Zan said. “I don’t attach myself to anything else.”

“Well, we’re all counting on you,” Jia said. “Oh! And remember, the medicine will dry your throat.”

“I usually take it with an herbal tea,” Lieutenant Zan said with an amused smile. Then she bowed and left. Jia completed her rounds, turned out the lamp, and went to her cabin across the corridor. Sleep came easily that night.

Sokka crept back onto the bridge, intent to continue his snooping, but was surprised to find Lieutenant Zan was sitting by the logbook shelf with an open book in her hands. She was reading by the light of a lamp, and had a pot of tea on the table next to her. She glanced up at him.

“Um,” Sokka said, panicking. What excuse could he give her this time? She closed her book and laid it on the table.

“You get lost quite often,” she remarked.

“Yeah, uh, I was…going to, uh…the snack…room?” he stammered, glancing at the door.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” she said. “You were snooping through the logbooks. Why?”

“Well…”

She didn’t look armed, but Sokka knew from experience that looks could be deceiving. The flat look on her face betrayed nothing.

“I wanted to check the logbooks myself,” Sokka said. She sighed, and took a sip of tea. “I have Zuko’s permission.”

“Do you think I invented months’ worth of entries?” she asked bluntly. “Captain Jee already checked them.”

“Still,” Sokka said. “I need to make sure.”

“Fine,” she said. “His Highness asked you to help him, after all. I will leave you to it.”

She waved him towards the shelf. Sokka raised an eyebrow at her; this was almost too easy. Still, if she made a move against him, he was confident he’d be able to fight her off, at least long enough to escape.

“Okay then,” he said, and began to search the logbooks.

After about an hour, he hadn’t turned up anything, and he’d gone through most of them. Lieutenant Zan finished her tea and fetched a new pot from the officer’s mess. At last, Sokka was down to the last two books. If his journal pages were in either one… well, he had his escape plan in mind (it was to run. His escape plan was to run. Plans did not need to be complicated!).

He opened the first one and flipped through the pages—logbook entries for the spring of Houka 2. No stray journal pages in his handwriting. Just the clipped, even script of whoever the reporting officers had been. He put it back on the shelf, and looked at the last one. Hand trembling slightly, he pulled it from the shelf, glancing at Lieutenant Zan as he did. She was still reading her book. He opened the logbook quickly and…

Sailing times. Clips from the manifest. Notes about the weather.

With a frustrated growl, he threw the book aside. Lieutenant Zan shook her head in pity.

“I take it your search was not a success,” she said.

“No, it wasn’t,” Sokka said. But this didn’t make sense, unless… “Was Yuuta lying?”

“He’s a spy,” Lieutenant Zan said, pouring a second cup of tea. “Lying is what he does.”

“I guess,” Sokka said, cracking his neck.

“Tea?” Lieutenant Zan offered. “I just made this pot fresh.”

“Thanks,” Sokka said, taking the cup and drinking half of it reflexively. It tasted terrible. “Eugh! What’s in this?”

“It’s an herbal remedy,” she said, taking a sip from her own cup. “It helps me stay awake through the night.”

“Huh,” Sokka said, looking at the reddish brown liquid. He choked down the rest. He did begin to feel a tingling sensation in his fingertips as he mulled over the problem. Yuuta said Lieutenant Zan had threatened him. He claimed not to have known the contents of Sokka’s journal. Lieutenant Zan was the one who caught him. She could be lying about the whole thing. But then again, Yuuta could also be lying to try and cast doubt on his detainment. If he could pin the blame on someone else, then he’d be let free, right?

His throat tickled, and he coughed. A fuzzy feeling was spreading in his sinuses.

“Hey, can I have some more?” he asked. She nodded, pouring him more. He gagged on it as he drank it down. “Man, I don’t know why I’m so thirsty all of a sudden.”

“Would you like another?” she asked.

“Sure,” Sokka said.

He was mid-sip when he noticed that the contents of her half-full teacup were clear and colorless.

“Hey,” he said. “That’s not tea.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lieutenant Zan said, taking a drink.

“What did you give me?” Sokka asked, looking down at his cup. He was feeling woozy. The tingling in his fingers was now in his toes and moving up his limbs.

“An herbal tea,” she said.

Sokka stumbled a little as he backed away from her. She got up, advancing on him.

“You don’t look so well,” she said. “Do you need to sit down?”

“Stay away from me!” Sokka yelled. He was getting drowsier by the second, but if he could get to the stairs…

She grabbed him by the arm and frog-marched him back to the chair. He could scarcely lift his arms to try and escape. Filling his cup again, Lieutenant Zan tipped his head back and poured the disgusting brew down his throat. He tried to spit it out, but she pinched his nose, forcing him to swallow.

He sat in a daze as she left him. Glancing over, his eyes found the book she had been reading. A piece of loose leaf stuck out, on which was written in Sokka’s own hand: buy brush for Appa . She had been reading his journal the entire time he’d been looking for it. His last thought as sleep overtook him was a regret: he should’ve told Zuko that it was Lieutenant Zan.

Lieutenant Zan considered the body on the floor. She had gone to the officer’s mess to dispose of the drugged tea and wash the pot, and when she’d returned she found that Sokka had fallen out of the chair and onto the floor, possibly hitting his head.

“How shall I get rid of you?” She spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

There weren’t that many hours left in the night to dispose of a body. The fastest way would be simply to carry it to the side of the ship and drop it overboard. There weren’t that many people awake to notice her, either. Still, if she was seen carrying a body, she’d have to answer awkward questions.

She dragged Sokka over to a wall and bound his ankles and wrists, for good measure—Jia knew her stuff, but who could say how long he’d be out? Then she went to find a thick sack big enough to stuff him into. Alas, the hitch caught her: as she was descending to the top deck, a sailor hailed her.

“Lieutenant! Good evening.”

“Good evening, Ahn,” she said, turning to face him. He was accompanied, as ever, by Bo.

“Lieutenant, that looks terribly heavy,” Ahn said. “Let us carry that for you.”

“Aye,” Bo said, reaching out to take the sack.

Lieutenant Zan allowed Bo to relieve her of the burden. He hefted it over his shoulder, and frowned. Ahn didn’t seem to notice.

“Where are we taking it, Lieutenant?”

“Purser’s office,” she said, glancing at Bo. “It’s some things from the previous occupant of my cabin I’d like to put in storage until I figure out what to do with them.”

“Right away, Lieutenant!” Ahn said, bowing smartly. Bo copied the gesture.

The Tamushiba had staffed a purser, a specialist whose job it was to handle the ship’s money and valuables, and manage the manifest and other accounts. The Quartermaster tended to those duties aboard the Momiji and Setsujoku , but the last three years under Prince Zuko’s command had been an ongoing exercise in making do with less. The Tamushiba had endured no such privation, and even came with its very own vault. The sack was tossed inside without ceremony, and the door locked. Lieutenant Zan sighed, and resolved to deal with the body tomorrow evening when she’d have fewer witnesses.

Chapter Text

Houka 7, Mutsuki 7, Risshun

Zuko went immediately to the bridge after waking up, not even sparing a moment for breakfast. Captain Jee was there listening to Lieutenant Zan’s report. The Helmsman had not yet arrived to take over the wheel. Ignoring his officers’ greetings, he grabbed the spyglass and swept out onto the lookout platform. Then he scanned the horizon for signs of pursuit.

It was still pre-dawn, but the stars were fading from view. Large, puffy pink clouds scudded across the sky in the distance, unstained by soot or ash. There were no ships to be seen. He let out a sigh of relief.

“It seems that we’ve lost them,” Zuko said as he returned inside, closing the spyglass. “When will we reach the Lion Turtle Rocks?”

“Best estimate? Late afternoon, at current speed,” Captain Jee said.

“Good,” Zuko said. “I want to know if there are any changes.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Captain Jee said. “I’ll have a full report for the officer’s meeting later.”

Zuko nodded, and then his stomach growled. He turned on his heel to go and deal with his body’s needs, now that the danger had passed. His Uncle found him in the officer’s mess in the middle of eating his third bowl of rice.

“Good morning, Prince Zuko,” he said. “My, you’ve worked up quite the appetite.”

“I’ll be continuing yesterday’s training on the top deck today,” Zuko said, wiping his mouth with a cloth.

“Very good,” Uncle said. “Say, you haven’t seen Sokka today, have you?”

“No,” Zuko said, bristling.

“Hm,” Uncle frowned and stroked his beard. “How strange.”

“What’s strange about it?” Zuko snapped. “We’re not joined at the hip.”

“Did he say anything to you last night?” Uncle asked, ignoring Zuko’s umbrage. Zuko’s initial reaction was to deny that he and Sokka had any kind of relationship, at all, whatsoever, but his Uncle’s tone gave him pause. The old man knew where his proclivities lay, but he hadn’t suggested Zuko and Sokka were doing anything improper. Rather, he seemed concerned. And as he thought about it, it would make sense that Zuko would know where Sokka was—he was the Avatar’s friend, and spent an inordinate amount of time inflicting himself on Zuko.

“He said he was looking for his missing journal pages,” Zuko said. “And that the two of you don’t think Yuuta is the only spy.”

“And when did he tell you this?” Uncle asked.

“Right after the blackout,” Zuko replied. “But I haven’t seen him since. Are you sure he isn’t just asleep in his cabin?”

“I’ve checked there already,” Uncle said. “He isn’t there.”

“Then he’s probably skulking around somewhere he shouldn’t be!” Zuko snapped. “Like he always is!”

“You know, Prince Zuko, given the severity of the situation,” Uncle said, frowning more deeply. “You might show more concern for your friends.”

“Fire and ash, Uncle, we are not friends!” Zuko yelled, standing up from his seat.

“Language, Prince Zuko!” Uncle replied sternly. Zuko sat back down, abashed. “He may not be your friend, he is still the Avatar’s, is he not? If something were to happen to him, it would put your alliance into jeopardy.”

A vein in Zuko’s forehead popped. He shoved his chair back and stomped out of the officer’s mess. He couldn’t know peace from Sokka for one day, could he? 

Sokka wasn’t in his cabin, but Zuko hadn’t been expecting him to suddenly reappear there.

Sokka wasn’t in the armory, even though he had made the habit of invading the Setsujoku’s armory whenever he could.

Sokka wasn’t in the crew mess. It was only the first breakfast shift, though, perhaps he wasn’t hungry yet. 

He wasn’t visiting the infirmary for some reason.

He wasn’t in the training hold.

Zuko was beginning to worry as he ascended to the top deck. Was there another spy? Had he been kidnapped? Was he in danger? He happened to look over and see one of the lookouts talking to the Boatswain. The lookout was holding Sokka’s fur-lined jacket.

“Where did you get this?” Zuko demanded. He had stomped over and snatched the garment from the sailor’s hands before he realized what he was doing. The sailor bowed quickly.

“I found it on the railing by the stern, Your Highness,” the lookout said quickly. “I was just giving my report to the Boatswain.”

“What was it doing there?” Zuko snarled.

“I don’t know,” the lookout said. “It was stuck to a bolt and hanging by a thread. A strong breeze could’ve knocked it loose.”

“Show me,” Zuko ordered.

The part of the railing where the coat had allegedly been found was unremarkable, but there was indeed a sharp bolt with a piece of fur stuck under it. On the deck was a patch of dark ice.

“He might’ve slipped and tumbled overboard,” the Boatswain said, looking around. “But someone should’ve heard him, at least.”

“Captain Jee hasn’t made his rounds yet,” Zuko said, clenching his fist in the coat. “Bring me the lookouts. Now.”

Six sailors, including the one who had found the coat, stood in a line at attention. Zuko glared at them all, arms folded. The Boatswain paced in front of them, looking them each in the eye.

“Account for yourselves!” he barked. “Where were you from midnight to dawn!”

“Starboard bow, sir!”

“Amidships, sir!”

“Port bow, sir!”

“Turned in for the night, sir!” 

“Turned in for the night?” the Boatswain roared. “Who gave you permission to slack off?”

“Lieutenant Zan, sir!” the lookout replied. “Once the enemy ships had gone past, she relieved us of duty.”

“And in the midst of an emergency you didn’t see fit to report this change of orders to myself or anyone else?”

“I…no, sir! That was my mistake, sir!”

“That it was, sailor,” the Boatswain said, unraveling a whip. “Fifteen lashes. Assume the position!”

Zuko tried not to wince as the sailor was flogged.

“And what about you two?” the Boatswain demanded of the other lookouts. Without answering, they, too, prepared to receive their fifteen lashes for leaving their posts without notifying another officer.

“Have Jia check your backs and then swab the decks,” the Boatswain ordered the three sailors he’d just beaten. “The rest of you, return to your duties. Dismissed!”

Zuko tapped his fingers on his arm.

“Your Highness, I apologize,” the Boatswain said. “It’s my fault for entrusting the ship’s safety to such worthless men.”

“No,” Zuko said. He refused to believe Sokka had fallen overboard. It was scarcely to be imagined—a Water Tribe warrior, experienced with the sea, falling overboard on a calm night? There was foul play here. “I have to see my Uncle.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” the Boatswain said, looking at a loss as Zuko stormed away.

“Uncle!” Zuko said, finding him at last in the galley having tea with the Cook. He stalked over and slammed his hand on the table without waiting for a reply. “You and Sokka were looking for another spy. You must have a suspect. Who is it?”

“We have more than a suspect,” Uncle said. “We have a confession. Yuuta was not acting under his own agency.”

“Spare me the conspiracy,” Zuko snarled, getting in his Uncle’s face. “Just give me a name. Who. Is. The. Spy?”

Uncle set down his cup of tea, glancing to the door as if to check that they weren’t being overheard.

“Lieutenant Zan,” he said.

He must have continued speaking. Something about needing proof and cautious treading. Zuko didn’t hear it. He was lost in a sudden reel of recollections: Lieutenant Zan took the komodo rhinos to the animal market. Takeshi said she’d given him permission to leave after she’d reported he disappeared in the market. Lieutenant Zan was the one who found Yuuta and the incinerated journal cover. Lieutenant Zan had relieved the lookouts before Sokka supposedly fell overboard.

She was always on night watch. She was often alone, but she had full run of the ship.

She was there when he’d returned after infiltrating Commander Pei’s office in Tanebi Port.

She had seen him with Kozue before the Winter Solstice.

She knew everything.

Lieutenant Zan was readying herself for sleep when the door to her cabin was thrown open. Prince Zuko burst inside, fists aflame. He was followed by Iroh, Captain Jee, the Master-at-Arms, and three of the artillerists armed with spears.

“Where is he?” Prince Zuko snarled, smoke curling from his mouth and nostrils. He didn’t resemble a person so much as an enraged dragon. Lieutenant Zan quickly assessed her odds: open confrontation was a dead loss. She held up her hands in surrender.

“He’s gone,” she said simply.

There was a moment where it looked like Prince Zuko would kill her—where he would blast her with fire that burned blue until she was nothing but an ashen stain on the floor. He did not, however. He extinguished his hands and pointed at her as a magistrate casting judgment.

“Arrest her,” he ordered. “Find out what she’s done with Sokka, and then get her off my ship.”

The artillerists surrounded her, spears leveled, while the Master-at-Arms clapped her in irons. She afforded Prince Zuko a tight smile—even in the grip of anger and despair, he couldn’t bring himself to order her execution.

It was for this reason, among many others, that he would never become Fire Lord.

“Your Highness, we should also—” Captain Jee was saying as she was led away.

“Do whatever you have to,” Prince Zuko snapped, cutting him off. “Do what you must to keep this ship and crew safe. If there are any other spies or accomplices, find them all. We shouldn’t have gotten complacent—”

As she was being taken away, she heard no more than that. She didn’t need to spare the wounded bellows of a lovesick prince any more thought. Her orders were clear, and she was not relieved of her assignment by virtue of her arrest.

That simply wasn’t how things worked.

Zuko didn’t wait for the traitor’s interrogation to complete before ordering a full search of the ship. The Quartermaster was alarmed by the implication that there might be a corpse stashed somewhere that she wasn’t aware of, and took to the task with all due urgency. Off-duty sailors were mobilized. The holds were turned inside-out. The engine rooms were combed through. The skiff bays were meticulously searched. Zuko personally oversaw the operation in the deckhouse, starting from the bridge and working their way down, deck by deck.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Zan refused to talk, and Sokka had not been found.

“How did she hide him so well?” Zuko demanded. “She can’t have had that much time!”

Talking with the Helmsman and the lookouts, a rough window of time had been determined about when the abduction took place. It was hours wide, but not that many.

“There must be a ship blueprint somewhere,” Captain Jee was saying to the Quartermaster. “Something, anything.”

“I checked all the cabinets and drawers I could find,” she said, shaking her head. “She must’ve gone through them already and removed or destroyed anything of the sort.”

“Ah, ask the Chief Engineer,” Captain Jee said. “He checks schematics more frequently than any of us.”

“Your Highness.”

Zuko spun on his heel to see Misun, accompanied by a nervous looking Ahn and a troubled looking Bo. Ahn quailed under his gaze. Bo frowned deeply, arms folded.

“What is it?” he demanded.

“Ahn and Bo may know where the Water Tribesman is,” Misun said.

“Spit it out!” Zuko demanded, rounding on the two sailors.

“Our deepest apologies, Your Highness, but we didn’t realize!” Ahn said, bowing over and over again. “Last night, we saw Lieutenant Zan carrying a heavy sack downstairs. She said it was full of things from her cabin she wanted to put in storage, so Bo and I helped her. But Bo thought the sack felt strange, all soft and lumpy.”

“Where is it?” Zuko said, cutting him off before he could explain just how he had gotten the description out of Bo, or wander down some other tangent.

“Purser’s Office, Your Highness,” Ahn said.

“Ah, of course!” The Quartermaster snapped her fingers. “Why didn’t I think to check there sooner? Follow me, Your Highness.”

She led them to the Purser’s Office, to which she had the key, and let them inside. It took only a moment to open the vault, and there on the floor was the sack. Zuko strode in and knelt down by the top of the sack, fingers shaking as he undid the knot. The others stood in the vault door as he opened the sack to reveal Sokka’s shoes.

“Help me with him!” Zuko ordered.

Misun came and helped wrangle Sokka’s unconscious body out of the sack, making short work of his bonds as well. His head lolled to the side as Zuko checked him for signs of life. He had a weak pulse and his breathing was shallow. Dark bruises had formed where he’d been dropped on the floor. Zuko’s relief was stymied: Sokka was alive, but how did he get in this condition? He picked Sokka up bridal style and carried him out of the vault.

“Your Highness, let me—,” Ahn began.

“Go to the infirmary,” Zuko snapped at him. “Tell Jia to prepare a bed. Now .”

“Yes, Your Highness!” Ahn said, sprinting away.

Jia was ready for them. She guided Zuko over to the available bed, and performed her own checks. Zuko paced back and forth impatiently.

“Well, apart from being unresponsive, his condition isn’t bad,” Jia said at last. “Do you know how he got to be like this?”

“No,” Zuko snapped. “Lieutenant Zan did something to him, but she won’t talk.”

“Lieutenant Zan?” Jia said, shocked. She scratched her chin. “Ah, of course.”

“What?” Zuko said, watching as Jia went over to the medicine cabinet and took out a small bottle of liquid. She read the label, and then went to consult one of the former medical officer’s books. When she found what she was looking for, she turned to Zuko and bowed deeply, even going so far as to put her forehead on the floor between both hands.

“Last night, I gave Lieutenant Zan a sleeping aid,” Jia said. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but his condition is my fault.”

“Why did you give a spy a sleeping aid?” Zuko asked acidly.

“Your Highness,” the Quartermaster said, cutting in brusquely. “With all due respect, we only learned of her treachery this morning. I think we can forgive Jia for not realizing the crime she was committing.”

“I often gave her medicine to help her sleep,” Jia said, trembling a little. “Since she usually takes the third watch, and must sleep during the day. I didn’t think anything of it last night. Please, Your Highness, I have no excuse to offer.”

Zuko looked down at her, and then at the Quartermaster, whose disapproving frown would shame a lesser man into swift obedience. Then he looked at Sokka, lying in a drugged stupor.

“Ensure that he awakens, and I will forget this ever happened,” he said at last, glaring at the groveling healer.

“I will do my best, Your Highness,” Jia said. “But there is no antidote for the medicine he’s taken. Without knowing how much he had, I can’t say how long he will be asleep, if he ever wakes up.”

“Then administer something to wake him up!” Zuko roared.

“I…I will see what we have, but it might be risky, Your Highness,” Jia said. “Antagonistic medicines could create an imbalance within him that might prove fatal. I will care for him to the extent of my abilities, but please understand that there may be nothing I can do for him!”

Zuko breathed out smoke.

“Fine! Do what you can, or do nothing!” he roared. “I will remain here to observe and wait for Captain Jee to tell me he’s purged this ship of all untrustworthy snakes. You had better pray that Sokka wakes up, because if he doesn’t and I have any reason at all to suspect you are lying to me, then you will share Lieutenant Zan’s fate, and the fate of all traitors who dare cross me!”

An officer’s meeting was called in the infirmary, which still had other patients and visitors who had borne witness to Zuko’s outburst. There was nothing to be done for most of them—Akihito, for instance, was still too injured to move without help—but Captain Jee chased out everyone else—being extra strict with Takeshi, who was reluctant to leave Akihito’s side. Zuko sympathized. He himself would not be persuaded to go elsewhere. He sat next to Sokka’s bed, which was below an open window to let in a refreshing breeze. His back was ramrod straight and his fists were clenched on his knees. Jin Hui and Taiyou both stood at attention nearby.

“Has she said anything?” Zuko asked.

“Nothing,” the Master-at-Arms said. “She has resisted all our attempts to interrogate her thus far.”

“Hardly surprising,” Uncle said. “She is an agent of the Ministry of Secrets. I wonder how long she has been in that role?”

“Useless to speculate now,” Lieutenant Touma said, his face hard. “She betrayed us all. The better question is, what did she tell Princess Azula, and what has she been doing since?”

“She stole Sokka’s journal,” Zuko said. “Which means she has a valuable source of information about the Avatar.”

“She also set up Yuuta to distract us,” the Quartermaster said. “We were meant to think the danger had passed.”

“Yuuta confessed to being coerced into helping her,” the Master-at-Arms said. “He’d be pardoned of all crimes if he did, and she’d kill him if he didn’t.”

“Unfortunate, since we caught her,” the Quartermaster said.

“And put our pursuers to wake,” Lieutenant Touma added. “Although, now I wonder how secure we are in the knowledge that we really did escape unnoticed.”

“Not secure, unfortunately,” Captain Jee said. “While we were scouring the signal room, I found evidence that the lamp had been used recently, although I can’t say exactly when.”

“So she’s been sending messages,” Lieutenant Touma said.

“We must assume that Princess Azula knows our heading,” Uncle said. “Lieutenant Zan was in every meeting where we discussed our maneuvers. There is no benefit in trying to delude ourselves that she did not or would not have passed that information on.”

“So we change course,” Captain Jee said. “Sidestep her trap and continue on to Omashu.”

“What about the Avatar?” Zuko said.

Captain Jee frowned. So did the others. Zuko snorted smoke, and looked down at Sokka’s still-sleeping face. His breathing had become more normal as the day wore on, but he still hadn’t woken up. Loose strands of hair fell over his face, and Zuko had to suppress the urge to brush them aside while everyone else was watching.

“We still have to rendezvous with the Avatar,” Zuko said. “Otherwise, what was the point of any of this?”

“Then we have two options,” Lieutenant Touma said, stroking his chin. “The Avatar knows to follow our original course if he misses our meeting. We were supposed to be in Yu Dao for three days.”

“If all had gone according to plan, we would have departed Yu Dao yesterday,” the Quartermaster said.

“If all had gone according to plan, my sister would’ve arrested us and sent the ones she didn’t execute for treason to the Boiling Rock,” Zuko snapped.

“Be that as it may,” Lieutenant Touma cut back in. “We have two options: continue on our original path and hope the Avatar catches up with us, or turn around, sail to Midoriyama Island directly, and hope we encounter him along the way.”

“While avoiding Princess Azula’s trap,” Captain Jee said. “Neither of those options are very good. We don’t know where her ships are, or who else she mobilized to search. And if we’re assuming she knows what we know, then she is aware of the Avatar’s location.”

“Do we trust the Avatar to be able to escape capture?” the Boatswain said, arms folded. 

All eyes turned to Zuko.

“The Avatar is a capable bender,” Zuko said through gritted teeth.

“That is not the question, Prince Zuko,” Uncle said, folding his hands in his sleeves. “Given all that we do not know, how much do you want to leave to chance?”

Zuko clenched his teeth. He didn’t know what the correct course of action would be here, but he had to make a decision.

“Full steam towards Lion Turtle Rocks,” he said at last. “I don’t trust the Avatar to stay out of trouble, but he knows our route, and it would be worse for us to miss him by turning back. Double all watch rotations, and report any ship sightings immediately to the officer in command. Chief Engineer.”

“Yes, Your Highness?” The Chief Engineer said.

“Make whatever preparations you must to overclock the engines in case we need to escape,” he said. “Boatswain, schedule evacuation drills for the crew as soon as possible. We will not be caught unprepared.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“You’re dismissed,” Zuko said, turning back to Sokka. The officers filed out to see to their tasks. Jin Hui and Taiyou remained where they were, exchanging looks.

“Pardon me, Your Highness,” Taiyou said. “But perhaps we could resume your firebending training? It just seems, you know, what with the spies all caught…the boy’s in good hands, you don’t need to trouble yourself…”

“He could have died,” Zuko said. Taiyou’s mouth snapped shut. “I will wait until he wakes up.”

“Then we shall wait with you,” Jin Hui said.

Zuko gave him a grateful nod, choosing to overlook Taiyou’s barely-disguised groan of dismay. He folded his arms and shifted his weight so he was sitting more comfortably. Sokka’s fingers twitched on top of the blanket, but Zuko resisted the urge to reach out and take his hand.

There were now two occupied cells in the brig. Lieutenant Zan was kept separate from Yuuta, although there was nothing to stop her from having to endure the latter’s whinging. The Master-at-Arms had all but tortured her to get her to spill her secrets, but she had been well-trained to resist such techniques. Her limbs were still sore from the treatment, of course. She looked through the small window of her cell at the guards. They’d been taken from the engineering department or deck crew, and were all newer recruits from Garsai, Zhen Yu, or Maogang.

“This was a mistake,” Yuuta said for the fifth time. “I should’ve just let you kill me! They’ll maroon us and that’ll be the end! Why did it have to be me?”

“Our deal still stands,” Lieutenant Zan called at last, double-checking her previous count. “I always stay true to my word.”

“What deal!?” Yuuta yelped. “It’s hopeless! They’re going to kill us!”

“Guard,” Lieutenant Zan called. “Could I have some water?”

“Back against the wall,” the guard—his name was Gang—said. Lieutenant Zan complied, and the door to her cell opened. Another guard—her name was Nia—brought a pitcher and a cup for her to use.

“I could offer you the same deal,” Lieutenant Zan said to her. “Help me when the time comes, and you’ll receive a full pardon.”

“Shut up!” Gang snapped.

“You’re the prisoner here,” Nia pointed out as Lieutenant Zan took her drink.

“Not for long,” Lieutenant Zan said.

“You won’t escape,” Nia said. “There’s nothing here for you to use as a weapon or a lockpick.”

That was not true: she had secured for herself a usable lockpick already, but Nia didn’t need to suspect as much. Instead she merely smiled and slid the empty cup across the floor towards her.

“You’re the ones who won’t escape,” she said. “Not this time. The Prince can’t save you. Only I can.”

“I said shut up!” Gang yelled, brandishing his spear threateningly. Lieutenant Zan put her hands up in surrender. “She’s spinning lies. We’ve got the General and the Avatar on our side.”

“You have the General,” Lieutenant Zan said. “Where’s the Avatar now?”

“He’ll catch up,” Gang said, but he didn’t sound sure.

“He’ll go his own way,” Lieutenant Zan said. “He doesn’t trust us, and he doesn’t need us. The Prince is chasing a fairy tale, just like he always has. You’d be wise not to follow him to the end.”

Gang had nothing to say to that. He lowered his spear, but spat on the floor in front of her door. Nia picked up the cup and backed slowly out, looking at her with new eyes. The third guard—a man named Haku—said nothing, but he met her gaze with a subtle nod. Lieutenant Zan smiled as the door shut on her.

Now she had two escape plans.

The Lion Turtle Rocks came into view in the late afternoon, two large, round islands surrounded by many dozen smaller round rocks, like a pair of lion turtle parents surrounded by their cubs. Zuko saw them from the window of the infirmary. He’d dismissed his retainers, and was alone with Sokka. Jia and Takeshi were taking Akihito for a walk down to the crew mess for dinner.

Sokka groaned. Zuko was out of his seat in an instant.

“Ugh, my head,” he said, trying to sit up.

“Here, let me help,” Zuko said. He lifted Sokka so he could lean against the wall. “How are you feeling?”

“Like Appa stepped on my face,” Sokka said. “And then Momo jumped on my stomach.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Zuko asked.

“Yeah, give me a second,” Sokka said, rubbing his head and blinking. His eyes focused on the room. “I went to the bridge looking for my journal pages… Lieutenant Zan was there… she gave me something to drink… I thought it was tea.”

“It was an herbal medicine for sleep,” Zuko said. “She must have spiked your tea.”

“She tricked me,” Sokka said, shifting his weight and then wincing in pain. “Ow. Did you catch her?”

“Yes,” Zuko said. “She hasn’t said anything else, but it’s only a matter of time.”

Sokka nodded, and an awkward silence descended. Zuko gritted his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” Sokka asked.

“I didn’t take your warning seriously,” he said. “And you almost died.”

“Psh, you’re just sorry because Katara would’ve murdered you,” Sokka said, rolling his eyes.

“No, that’s not it,” Zuko said testily.

“You don’t have to pretend to care, Zuko, really,” Sokka said. “You’ve said loud and clear that you don’t like any of us.”

Zuko clicked his tongue in frustration.

“I may not want to be your friend, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you,” he snapped.

“Do you listen to yourself talk?” Sokka said, wincing as he got a little too animated in his response. “How does that make any sense?”

“It doesn’t!” Zuko said. “It doesn’t make any sense! I shouldn’t care as much about you as I do…but…I do.”

His face burned, and he couldn’t look Sokka in the eye, as ashamed as he was of his weak, sentimental words. Sunlight through the infirmary windows painted the room fiery red and orange. Sokka cleared his throat.

“How about this,” he said, slowly. “Why don’t you try to be my friend? You can keep…feeling whatever you feel, but also, we actually get to know each other. And when it comes time to fight your dad, we’ll both know we can trust each other.”

Zuko shifted uncomfortably.

“I…don’t know if I can do that,” he said. Sokka opened his mouth to object, but Zuko silenced him. “What I mean is…I don’t know how to be friends. With anyone. Yura tried, but that didn’t work out—obviously. The last time I had anyone I would call a friend was when I was 13.”

“Is that why you keep rejecting Aang?” Sokka asked. Zuko nodded. Sokka sighed and shook his head ruefully. “That’s so dumb.”

“Why would I have needed friends!?” Zuko snarled. “I’m the Fire Prince. I don’t have friends, I have subjects.”

“Hey, Fire Prince, I’m not your subject,” Sokka replied with a smirk. “Aang’s not your subject. Are you telling me we can’t be friends?”

“That’s different!”

“I’m just saying,” Sokka said, picking some wax out of his ear. “You’d be much less uptight if you gave it a shot.”

Zuko glared at him, sitting there with a cranky grimace, illuminated by an orange sunbeam. He sighed. The fight left him, and in its place was tired acquiescence and the glimmer of a question: at this point, what did he have to lose?

“Fine, I’ll try to be friends with the Avatar,” Zuko said.

“For the love of—! He has a name, Zuko!” Sokka said.

“Alright! I’ll try to be Aang’s friend!” Zuko said. “I won’t make any more promises.”

“Your word, your honor,” Sokka said.

The awkwardness descended again. Neither of them could fail to notice that Zuko hadn’t specified where he and Sokka stood now. Sokka’s hand rested on top of the blanket again. Zuko sat with his hands on his knees. There was less than an inch separating them. He could extend his pointer finger—just so—and…

Sokka’s fingertips were callused. Warmth radiated up Zuko’s arm, starting from the point of contact.

“Zuko…” Sokka said. He had been watching Zuko’s hand, but now he looked Zuko in the eyes. Even in the coming twilight, Sokka’s eyes held onto their deep, sapphire blue. Zuko felt himself being drawn into them.

“Sokka, I…” 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The Tamushiba had a bell. One of the lookouts was furiously ringing it. The call came up from below and above.

“Ships spotted! Ships spotted!”

“I have to go,” Zuko said, getting to his feet. 

Azula stood on the top deck of the Powerful , her stance wide and strong, hands clasped behind her back. She was smiling. Commander Daigo’s task force sailed in formation behind her, and ahead she could see the Tamushiba and the Lion Turtle Rocks. They were right on schedule.

“Captain, your orders are to capture that ship,” she called. “Do not fail me.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

The Powerful was already going at full steam. So too, by the looks of it, was the Tamushiba . It would come down to maneuvering, then, and in that instance she was quite confident—after all, the Powerful’s helmsmen were both experienced sailors used to the ship. Zuko had been in possession of the Tamushiba for a mere three days. Azula raised her right hand and sent up a plume of blue fire.

From the lookout platform, a flare was launched. It burst in a shower of blue sparks.

The guard Haku knocked softly on Lieutenant Zan’s cell door.

“The lookouts spotted approaching ships,” he said quietly.

“Did they send up a signal?” she asked. Haku disappeared for a few minutes. Nia and Gang both shifted nervously nearby.

“They did,” Haku said on his return. “A blue signal flare.”

“Then it’s time,” Lieutenant Zan said.

The door to her cell was opened, and she was allowed out. She allowed Nia to put her into the light skirmish armor. She accepted a sword and a firebender helmet from Gang, although she left the visor up for the time being. The sword she tied to her belt, and then signaled the others to follow her.

“What do we do with him?” Gang asked, nodding towards Yuuta.

“Leave him,” she said. “He will only hinder us.”

“You said you’d protect me!” Yuuta yelled. “You said I’d be pardoned!”

“And you will be,” Lieutenant Zan said as the other guards fell in behind her. “But a pardon’s no good if you’re dead, and you’re in no fit state to fight for the good of the Fire Nation.”

Yuuta’s cries were cut off by the door of the brig, and the four of them descended to the engine room.

The bridge was tense. Captain Jee, Uncle, and Zuko pored over the sea charts while Lieutenant Touma took command of the ship. They were approaching the Lion Turtle Rocks from the northeast, pursued by Azula and her small fleet of ships.

“If we round this reef, we can increase our distance,” Captain Jee said, tracing a route with his finger.

“What if they go around this way?” Zuko asked.

“Then we could—” Uncle began, but the conversation was cut short.

The ship shuddered. Aftwards, a great roaring hissing noise filled the air. A series of thuds echoed up the midship stairwell. Zuko and Captain Jee both sprang into action. They ran out to the lookout platform to see a massive, billowing cloud of steam being vented from the steam funnel, much larger than it should have been.

“Engine room,” Captain Jee said.

They ran down the midship stairwell. From below, they could hear shouting and the sounds of hammers on metal. They encountered Kaen, carrying his bag of tools and accompanied by another sailor, who fell into step beside them. As they passed the infirmary, Sokka poked his head out.

“Zuko, what’s going on?” he asked.

“Stay there!” Zuko yelled, not stopping to see whether his order was ignored or not.

A scrum of stokers and firemen awaited them at the bottom of the stairwell in the process of raising the watertight bulkhead door into the boiler room.

“Report!” Captain Jee barked.

“We’re not sure what happened, Captain!” one of the firemen said. “We got the all-stop order, and then the bulkhead doors closed without warning.”

“There was no all-stop order given,” Captain Jee said, frowning deeply. “Get this door open at once!”

“Aye, Captain!” the fireman said with a bow. “Put your backs into it, men!”

A crew of ten men were able to lift the heavy doors enough that Zuko, Captain Jee, the carpenter, and a few others could squeeze under. The boiler rooms were chaotic. Steam leaked out of pipes while men continued damping the fires, even as others banged at the bulkhead doors in outrage.

“Light those boilers!” Captain Jee yelled over the din.

“We can’t, Captain!” a stoker yelled back. “They threw the brake on the engine! If we bring them back online, she’ll rupture and flood the ship with steam!”

“Open the aft bulkhead door!”

Behind them, stokers and firemen propped open the door into the coal bunkers, letting a stream of men in to pry open the door separating them from the ship’s engines. Zuko clenched his fists. What new treachery was this? Then someone touched him on his arm. He whipped around and saw Sokka standing next to him, squinting at the bulkhead door.

“It’s on a rail, right?” he yelled in Zuko’s ear. “Run a rope over the top of that bar and have some people pull while the others push from below!”

“We need rope!” Zuko shouted.

The call went up, and Captain Jee coordinated the crew. It was a matter of minutes to lift the door enough to squeeze through. Zuko clasped Sokka on the shoulder, noting that he still looked unsteady.

“Are you okay?” he shouted.

“Fine,” Sokka replied. “Dizzy.”

“Stay here,” Zuko yelled. “Join us when you’re ready.”

Sokka nodded, smiling tightly. He found a place to sit that was as out of the way as could be. Without another backward glance, Zuko entered the engine room.

The Tamushiba’s engines were similar to the Setsujoku’s —a block of pistons, pressure regulators, and a jacking gear connecting everything to the crankshafts that turned the screws. At least, those were the parts that Zuko recognized. The pistons still moved, albeit more and more slowly as Zuko watched, but the crankshafts were not being turned. They had somehow been disconnected. And the cause of this sabotage was standing with a sword pointed at the Chief Engineer’s throat. Lieutenant Zan, flanked by the three brig guards, one of whom had a spear trained on Nikko.

“Stand down,” Zuko ordered.

“Surrender, Prince Zuko,” Lieutenant Zan said. “Even if you defeat us and rescue these men, by the time you fix what we’ve done and bring the engines back up to full steam, the Fire Navy will be upon you.”

Zuko snarled, mind racing. How could he get close enough to save the Chief Engineer and Nikko? Lieutenant Zan had already proven herself to be dangerous and resourceful.

“All of you!” Lieutenant Zan called out, addressing the crowd of stokers and firemen behind him. “It’s not too late! Recant your oath of loyalty to Prince Zuko, seize him, and turn the ship over to Princess Azula, and you will all be spared!”

“She’s lying!” Zuko yelled. “My sister wouldn’t know how to show mercy, and my Father would never allow it!”

“How much longer will you delude them, Your Highness?” Lieutenant Zan said. Zuko—dimly, in the part of his mind that recalled his childhood fights with Azula—knew that every second he let her talk was a second he couldn’t afford to lose. But she pressed her blade close to the Chief Engineer’s throat when he took a half-step towards her. “The Fire Lord is indeed merciful. He rewards loyalty. What rewards have you given them?”

“They know they will be rewarded once the Avatar has defeated my Father and ended the war!” Zuko yelled. His eyes darted around, trying to find an angle of approach. But there was nothing—the space between the pistons and the bulkhead was too open. Behind him, he heard murmuring and some disgruntled yelling. Someone said, “hey, don’t push!”

“You have nothing but fantasy and empty promises,” Lieutenant Zan said. “Your pride will be the—”

A boomerang flew out from the crowd in a tight, whirling arc. It struck Lieutenant Zan in the face, and bounced to hit one of the other guards on the shoulder before clattering to the floor below the pistons. Zuko reacted instantly.

He exploded forward, shoving the Chief Engineer aside and grabbing Lieutenant Zan’s sword hand. With a twist and a shout, he threw her over his shoulder. She hit the ground hard. Zuko retained his hold on her wrist and twisted it, forcing her to drop her weapon. Captain Jee rushed the other guards, hands ablaze. They were all taken down in seconds. The stokers and firemen looked on in stunned amazement—few of them had seen either Zuko or Captain Jee in action.

“You,” Zuko said, pointing at the nearest sailor. “Bind her. You three, take these traitors to the brig. Chief Engineer, are you alright?”

“Shaken, but none the worse for wear, Your Highness,” he said, going over to help Nikko stand.

“Fix this mess,” Zuko spat, gesturing at the engines. “And get us back up to speed.”

“At once, Your Highness.”

He barked orders to the assembled sailors, who jumped to it. Zuko breathed out, his shoulders falling, and sought out Sokka in the crowd. The warrior was leaning against the bulkhead door, watching him grimly. Zuko went to retrieve his boomerang.

“You dropped this,” he said, handing it to Sokka with both hands.

“Boomerang always comes back,” Sokka said, accepting it. “You know, a thank you would be nice.”

“Thank you,” Zuko said.

“No problem,” Sokka replied.

“Come on,” Zuko said, taking Sokka by the elbow. “We’re in the way now.”

“Yeah,” Sokka said, looking around. “Man, I’d love to just sit down and rest here a bit longer.”

“No,” Zuko said, dragging him away. “No more spying on my ship.”

“...yeah, okay,” Sokka said, looking back at Lieutenant Zan. Blood ran down her forehead from where the boomerang had cut her, but she was still very much alive.

They went out to the top deck. Zuko did not let go of Sokka for even a moment. They stood there in the sunset and watched as the Powerful closed in on them.

“She was right,” Zuko said with a defeated sigh. “Even if we did restart the engines, we can’t escape.”

“Your Highness,” the Boatswain said, approaching him. “We’re within range of Lion Turtle Rocks. If we deploy skiffs, we can get the crew to safety.”

“And what?” Zuko demanded. “There’s nothing there. They would be safe until Azula sent out her own skiffs to scour the islands. I won’t lead my people into a deathtrap!”

“Your Highness,” the Boatswain said, straightening his back. “Do you remember the pirate attack on the Momiji two years ago in the Eastern Air Isles? They approached us in small craft and attempted to board on three sides. Spirits, we captured this very ship with two skiffs and a boarding action. We have the means, we have the crew, and we have the experience to do the same for any Fire Navy ship that attempts to flush us out. Don’t give up hope, Your Highness.”

Zuko blinked, but then nodded. He did remember that attack. He had been fourteen at the time, still grappling with shipboard combat. He hadn’t learned to compensate for the degraded depth perception in his left eye. It was a desperate struggle for survival, but there had been only a dozen pirates. The Tamushiba had nearly fifty men and women, even after the losses from battle, voluntary departure, injury, and mutiny.

“Inform Captain Jee, and begin the evacuation,” Zuko said firmly. “Leave the traitors in the brig. We don’t have any time to lose.”

“Zuko, look!” Sokka said, hitting Zuko’s arm to get his attention and pointing.

In the distance, behind the approaching fleet, a white creature flew through the air. Zuko squinted until he finally recognized it as Appa, Aang’s bison. Appa was being pursued by two ships.

“Aang,” he said. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“The Avatar himself is here!” the Boatswain crowed. “Come on, you crusty chum-eating worms, prepare the skiffs! Ready the ship to be scuttled!”

Zuko and Sokka waited as the deck crew hurried off. The call went up. It would take several minutes to prepare the skiffs. Zuko calculated speeds and distances, trying to tell himself that this hope was real, that there was a way out of this situation where he kept true to his vow: nobody sacrificed, nobody tossed aside. Appa flew past the Powerful on gale force winds. Two of the ships in the fleet lit their trebuchets, but their shots fell well short of the target. Sokka whooped and jumped in the air, pumping his fist.

“Come on, Aang!” he cried.

Zuko was almost laughing with him, but then he saw something that made his smile fall. On the deck of the Powerful, he saw a blue spark. It twisted back and forth. Then, a bolt of lightning shot out. It struck Appa’s tail. The bison seized in mid-air. Sokka stopped jumping. The two of them looked on in horror as Appa plummeted down and crashed into the ocean.

“What…?” Sokka gaped.

“Azula,” Zuko said, eyes narrowing.

“What was that!?” Sokka cried, grabbing Zuko’s shirt and shaking him.

“Lightning generation,” Uncle said, approaching them. “An advanced firebending technique, as precise as it is deadly. I know of only two people in the world capable of performing it. It seems I must now count your sister among that number.”

“Uncle, we have to help them!” Zuko said, pointing where Appa’s body floated in the sea some distance away. Uncle nodded.

“Summon your retainers,” he said. “And get to the skiffs. You must launch now if you are to reach them before your sister!”

“Sokka, let’s go,” Zuko said.

“Right,” Sokka nodded.

Zuko still held onto him, shifting his grip so that they were hand in hand.

“Go!” Uncle urged, and they ran, like the wind itself was on their heels.

Chapter Text

Houka 7, Mutsuki 7, Risshun

Katara opened her eyes. She was underwater. The contents of Appa’s basket sank around her—bags, blankets, spare boots, and more. Gran-gran’s wisdom came to her aid: if you fall through the ice, don’t panic. Find which way is up, then swim.

She let out a breath and watched the way the bubbles went. Extending her chi, she twisted a current of water around herself, following the bubble trail up. When her head broke the surface, she gasped for breath.

“Aang!” she called.

Momo chattered overhead as he flew in agitated circles. A glow of white light from below caught her attention. With an almighty splash, Aang rose up out of the ocean, legs crossed in a meditative stance, his eyes and tattoos shining bright. He bore himself and Appa up in a whirling sphere of air, buffeting Katara and the ocean surface with wind. Katara covered her eyes while trying to keep her head above the waves. There was no way Aang could keep both Appa and himself aloft forever, so she cast about for some way to help. Then, it hit her: ice!

“Aang!” she called, hoping her voice carried over the wind. He turned towards her, face twisted in a severe frown. “Take him up higher! Go higher!”

Aang nodded, and the two floated up higher so that the sphere was no longer touching the sea. Katara focused her chi, and bent a flat berg of ice up beneath herself so that she, too, was floating. With progressively wider circular movements, she expanded the ice until it was big enough, and then carefully moved the flat berg under Aang.

“Okay!” Katara shouted. “Bring him down!”

Bracing herself against the wind by growing the ice up around her feet, Katara watched as Aang gently brought Appa to rest on the iceberg. It cracked and groaned under the strain. Katara, in a panic, bent more and more ice onto and under the berg as the light in Aang’s eyes and tattoos faded. Then, he slumped to the ground.

“Aang!”

She rushed over to his side, cradling his head in her arms. He groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Katara?” he said. Then he sat up sharply. “Appa! Where is he?”

“He’s over there,” Katara said. 

Aang got up and, slipping on the ice, went to Appa’s face. Momo landed on top of the bison’s head and began to tug at one of his ears.

“Appa, buddy, come on,” he said, patting his friend. “Wake up. Katara! He’s not breathing!”

“He might’ve inhaled a bunch of water!” Katara said, pressing her ear to Appa’s flank to try and listen for a heartbeat or sloshing sound. His fur was too thick. Aang took a deep breath and bent a gust of air into one of Appa’s nostrils. His sides rose and then fell, and a trickle of water came out his nose.

“Katara, I need your help!” Aang said.

The two of them together carefully pushed and pulled the water out of Appa, with Aang taking a break every few seconds to bend more air into him through his nose. Finally, with a snuffle and a grunt, Appa sneezed. Aang threw his arms around the bison’s face.

“Appa, you’re alive!” he cried. Appa bellowed weakly in response.

“Do you think he’s well enough to fly?” Katara asked, looking at the approaching ships. They weren’t being fired on, but that just meant the firebenders weren’t trying to kill them. Yet.

“What do you think, Appa?” Aang said, looking Appa in the eye worriedly. “Can you get us out of here?”

Appa tried to stand, nearly upsetting the iceberg before his knees gave out. He couldn’t manage it.

“He needs rest,” Aang said. “Do you think we can use waterbending to make it to those islands?”

“We have to try,” Katara said, lowering her stance. “Wait, look over there!”

“It’s a boat!” Aang said. A skiff was speeding towards them from the immobile Fire Nation ship. A pair of familiar figures stood near the prow.

“It’s Sokka!” Katara said, relief flowing over her.

“And Zuko!” Aang said. “They’re coming to rescue us!”

Appa sneezed again, spraying Aang with watery mucus. He lowed.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Aang said, trying to flick the mucus off his hands so he could pat Appa on the nose. “Help is on its way.”

As soon as the skiff reached the berg, Sokka’s feet hit the ice. He wrapped Katara up in a tight, fierce hug, one which she returned wholeheartedly.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” he said, and then stepped back to check her over for injuries. “When we saw Appa get hit…”

“What was that?” Katara said. “One minute we were flying, and then we heard thunder and Appa sort of seized up.”

“Zuko’s evil sister can apparently bend lightning,” Sokka said.

“That’s insane!” Katara cried. “Why can Zuko’s sister bend lightning? I didn’t even know he had a sister!”

“It’s a long story,” Sokka said.

“Can the bison fly?” Zuko asked, stepping onto the ice more carefully.

“Hello to you, too, Zuko,” Katara muttered under her breath, frowning.

“Zuko! Appa’s hurt bad,” Aang said. “He can’t even stand up!”

“Takeshi, do we have ropes or a net?” Zuko asked.

“We have ropes, Your Highness,” Takeshi replied.

“Then we’ll pull them back to the ship,” Zuko said. “Come on, you three.”

The four of them boarded the skiff while Takeshi and the others secured Appa with a rope. Zuko stared at the approaching gilded Powerful , his teeth clenching and veins popping on his forehead. Sokka understood the feeling, but for him it manifested as restless energy. He should be doing something, planning an escape route or a counterattack. Instead, he hugged his sister and his best friend more tightly.

“I’m never letting you guys out of my sight again,” he said. “You would not believe what’s been happening the last few days.”

“Same here,” Katara said. “Midoriyama Island wasn’t as nice as we thought it’d be.”

“We had maybe one day of camping before the Fire Nation found us,” Aang said. “I don’t even know what they were doing out there! The island isn’t anything like how I remember it.”

“They were probably looking for you,” Sokka said, arms still protectively around them both. “There was a spy on Zuko’s ship. They told the Fire Nation everything once we got to Yu Dao. We’ve been trying to shake them off for days.”

“Well, now they’ve caught us,” Katara said grimly.

“They won’t catch you,” Zuko retorted, gaze fixed on the Powerful .

“So what’s the plan, then?” Katara demanded.

“We’ll take shelter on the Lion Turtle Rocks,” Zuko replied, turning towards her with a glare whose intensity matched Katara’s cold glowering. “Then, when they send in their boats to capture us, we’ll sail out to capture one of their ships and escape.”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Sokka said. “We stole that ship a couple days ago.”

“What happened to the Setsujoku ?” Aang asked.

“Sunk,” Zuko replied curtly.

“Your Highness, the bison is secure,” Takeshi said, climbing back aboard the skiff.

“Jin Hui, take us back,” Zuko ordered. “Full speed.”

The skiff came about and sailed back towards the Tamushiba . Appa bellowed in protest as the rope became taut around his shoulders and rump. Instinctively, he dug his feet into the iceberg, with the result that it was dragged along with him. Aang watched him anxiously, and Sokka didn’t blame him. There wasn’t, as far as he could figure, any good way for them to move Appa without a proper barge or raft. If he slipped, he’d fall into the ocean, and they’d just be dragging him through the waves.

“He’ll be fine, Ava… Aang,” Zuko said. “Sit down.”

“Maybe I should use my bending to make it easier for him,” Aang said, chewing on his lip. “I’ll be right back.”

Zuko snatched him by his arm and forced him to sit on the deck.

“Sit,” he ordered. “Save your strength. Your bison is in good hands.”

“Could he try to sound any more threatening?” Katara muttered. 

Sokka bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a snicker. They were putting distance between themselves and the Powerful , but it was still too close to be cracking jokes. When they reached the Tamushiba several tense minutes later, Zuko ordered them to slow down, and then called up to the deck for a rope.

“What are you doing?” Sokka asked, sitting up sharply.

“Returning to the ship,” Zuko said, catching the end of the rope as it was lowered.

“Why?” Sokka demanded, getting to his feet.

“I have to make sure that my crew is safely evacuated,” he said. “Jin Hui, Taiyou, you stay with the Avatar.”

“Respectfully, Your Highness, but no,” Jin Hui said. He had turned the wheel over to Takeshi. “We swore an oath to protect you with our lives.”

“Fine,” Zuko said, narrowing his eyes. “I will allow one of you to accompany me.”

“I’ll go,” Taiyou said, patting Jin Hui on the shoulder. “You stay with the kids.”

“But—”

“No buts!” Taiyou said. “Between the two of us, I’ve got less to lose.”

“Don’t make me out to be a sentimental coward,” Jin Hui said heatedly.

“Jin,” Zuko snapped. “This is an order from your prince. Protect the Avatar.”

“I… Understood, Your Highness,” Jin Hui said, bowing.

“I can’t stop you from going, can I?” Sokka said. “She shoots lightning, Zuko!”

“I’m responsible for my people, Sokka,” Zuko said. “I’ll join you once I know they’re safe.”

“...I can’t believe I keep falling for noble idiots,” Sokka muttered, hand on his forehead. Zuko blinked. “Look. Just…promise me you won’t do anything reckless or dumb.”

“...okay,” Zuko said, nodding.

Sokka watched him go, and his stomach clenched. He hadn’t once stopped being sick with worry since he’d heard Zuko’s evil sister mention the spy, but now he felt another sharp stab in his belly as first Zuko and then Taiyou climbed up to the top deck of the Tamushiba . A few sailors slid down the rope to join them on the skiff, carrying little beyond a sack or backpack and a weapon roll. Then, Jin Hui brought the skiff back up to speed, and Takeshi turned the wheel towards the Lion Turtle Rocks. The sailors gave Aang and the others a wide berth, but Sokka didn’t fail to notice the looks of awe sent their way from the newcomers.

“He’ll be okay, Sokka,” Aang said, looking more confident than he sounded, which wasn’t very. Besides the Powerful , which was still closing in, there were six other Fire Nation ships bearing down on them. It was as if they were being hunted by a pack of marlin wolves.

“Lightning, Aang!” Sokka cried, throwing his arms up. “I thought you guys had died!”

“I’ve heard that Princess Azula is the most skilled firebender of her generation,” Jin Hui said quietly, arms folded. His eyes were downcast, like he was ashamed to be standing here with them. “But His Highness fought and killed Captain Zaima, and she was the most-feared pirate in the world. He’ll come back to us.”

“You mean he killed that pirate lady with the knives?” Aang asked, aghast.

“He never told me that,” Sokka said.

“To my knowledge, he hasn’t spoken of that encounter in detail to anyone,” Jin Hui said with a shrug. “But if he didn’t kill her, then she’d still be chasing us.”

They fell into a troubled silence. Sokka tore his eyes away from the Tamushiba , which was in the process of launching a skiff, and looked ahead to count how many had been launched already. There was just one skiff ahead of them full of sailors. Sokka hadn’t had a chance to count the Tamushiba’s skiffs, but the Setsujoku , which was of similar size and weight, had had four skiffs and a number of collapsible boats for emergencies. The next skiff would likely be the last one, and then they’d start launching collapsibles.

“No!”

Jin Hui lunged forward suddenly, hands on the side of the skiff as fire erupted on the top deck of the Tamushiba . A fierce skirmish was being fought. The imposing castle of the Powerful’s superstructure loomed next to the ship.

“Takeshi, turn this skiff around now,” Jin Hui ordered.

“We can’t turn back, Jin Hui,” Takeshi said. “We have our orders from the Prince: evacuate the crew and protect the Avatar!”

“His Highness needs us!” Jin Hui yelled.

“No, he doesn’t!” Takeshi roared back. “His Highness needs you to trust him and follow his orders! ”

The fight was interrupted by a large plume of blue flame. Several fires were burning on the deck, forming the backdrop against which, from their perspective, two people were locked in a ferocious duel. Meanwhile, the battle resumed around them.

“Well, we don’t take orders from him!” Sokka said, standing up.

“Yeah!” Katara said, joining him. “I bet we can take her, just like we took down Zhao and his men!”

“Aang, where’s your glider?” Sokka asked. “You can fly back there and see what the situation is, and if Zuko needs us we can go back.”

“Sokka, that’s good thinking!” Aang said, jumping up and over to Appa.

The saddle basket was still attached, but as Sokka watched Aang dig through the few bags and packs that had survived the fall, he could see from the increasing desperation of his search that it was hopeless.

“It’s not here!” Aang said at last.

From the Tamushiba , there was a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning. Everyone jumped. The lightning bolt lanced upwards and outwards, arching back down to strike the ocean miles away.

There was a terrible silence.

Then orange flame met blue flame in a mighty explosion of bending power. Takeshi turned his back on the scene and kept his hands firmly on the wheel.

“We keep going,” he said.

Minutes earlier…

Zuko watched as the Powerful slowed to a stop alongside the Tamushiba . Although they were ships of comparable size, the Powerful was far and away the more impressive-looking of the two. Standing atop the palanquin platform was Azula. In the three years since he’d last seen her, his sister had grown taller and haughtier. Her appearance was perfectly groomed. In her hair, she wore the lacquered headpiece of a member of the royal family. Zuko was gratified to note that it seemed their Father had not yet bestowed upon her the title of Crown Princess. Still, she held herself with calm, confident authority, her ability to remain unflappable one that Zuko had always envied.

She was hardly unaccompanied: a cohort of firebenders stood on parade on the deck of the ship. At the order of their commanding officer, they all turned to face the Tamushiba . Zuko, by contrast, only had his retainer and Uncle. Everyone else at this point was below decks. Azula’s smirk widened ever so slightly.

“At long last,” she called. “It’s been a while, dear brother. Uncle.”

Zuko tensed. She was toying with him again. But he had to stall her for time—the final skiff hadn’t been launched yet, and they still needed to deploy the collapsible boats for himself and the stragglers. He had to keep her talking as long as possible.

“I can’t say it’s good to see you again,” he said.

“What, you mean to tell me you didn’t miss me at all?” Azula said, feigning offense. “Zuzu, I’m hurt!”

“Don’t call me that!” Zuko snarled.

“And not even a ‘hello, how are you?’ You know, Zuzu, in my country, it’s polite to respond to a greeting in kind,” she said.

Zuko bit back his instinctive response, which was to yell. Azula always lies , he thought. She always tries to provoke you. Don’t let her.

“Hello, how are you?” he spat.

“Quite well, thank you,” Azula replied. “I’m about to celebrate a family reunion.”

“You’ve brought far too many ships for a simple reunion,” Uncle said, scanning the firebenders with a frown.

“Do not interrupt, Uncle! Zuko and I are talking!” Azula snapped at him. Her false smile returned as she again addressed Zuko. “I would’ve arrived sooner, but you did go out of your way to make it difficult to get in touch. In any case, I’d prefer to continue our conversation inside. Won’t you join me?”

“I don’t think so,” Zuko said.

“Pity,” Azula said, affecting a downcast expression. “But you can’t say I never gave you the chance to come peacefully. Captain?”

“Yes, Your Highness?” the captain of the Powerful said.

“Seize them.”

Sailors on the Powerful brought forward boarding ramps. The firebenders parted to make room for them, and in short order they were secured. Zuko glanced between Taiyou and Uncle, readying himself for the fight.

“Stay close, Taiyou,” Uncle said, raising his hands. “We cannot let them surround us.”

“Uncle, we can’t let them board,” Zuko said. “Not until the last skiff is away.”

“Then let us close with the enemy,” Taiyou said.

They met Azula’s firebenders at the edge of the ship. Taiyou and Uncle blocked and deflected incoming fire while Zuko dealt with the firebenders attempting to cross. He knocked one backwards onto the Powerful with a flurry of fireballs before turning on another with a focused fire stream. Uncle alternated between shielding Zuko and picking off enemies with swift, sure strikes. With a yell, Zuko turned his fire stream into a fire whip, and lashed it across the boarding ramps in warning. It wasn’t powerful enough to do more than singe the thick boards, but the pair of firebenders who were about to attempt a crossing both stepped back.

Azula sighed, watching the battle unfold. Six firebenders fell into the sea after failing to force their way across the boarding ramps to a combination of her brother getting in a few lucky hits and her Uncle’s fire breath. The other firebender with them was competently blocking, but did not seem to have the will or focus to multitask.

“As always,” Azula said with a sigh. “I must do things myself.”

She walked calmly down to the fray, considering her options (she had many) and obstacles (there were fewer of those).

“Captain, have your men lay down suppressing fire on my mark,” she ordered.

“Understood, Your Highness,” he said.

She waited for a lull in the fighting.

“Now,” she said.

“Suppressing fire!” her captain called.

Azula went from standing to running. Using the railing of the ship as a springboard, she jumped across the gap between the two ships just to the right of the forward boarding ramp. When she reached the top of her arc, she kicked, assisting her crossing with a burst of fire, and landed with a graceful roll on the top deck of the Tamushiba right next to Zuko’s retainer. He had not expected her to do that, nor did he expect her to immediately pivot to strike at his exposed flank. He went down in a burst of fire.

“Taiyou!” Zuko cried out, and then he saw her. Anger filled his eyes, and he bared his teeth. She smirked, and put her hands behind her back.

“I did give you a chance,” she said, setting him off.

Zuko threw himself at his sister with furious abandon. He bent the fire in his hands to daggers and closed the distance with her. He pressed forward with a series of swift blows. She ducked and weaved rather than block or counter, the expression on her face almost bored. He growled as she got behind his guard.

Switching his stance, he unleashed fire with a side-kick. Azula flowed underneath, but he’d expected her to, rapidly shifting his weight to a front kick that sent her skidding backwards. She was unscathed, however, having raised her arms in time to block.

Then she struck back.

Azula’s fire had turned blue in the years since his banishment, and was hot enough to burn him even behind his attempts to shield himself. Her attacks were executed with the same ruthless efficiency she had always approached her firebending with, quickly putting Zuko on the defensive. They traded blows, although it would be more accurate to say that Zuko took the blows he could afford to and forced her back without ever actually making contact—either with fist or with flame. Then Zuko realized, despite how adaptable she was, that her entire repertoire of moves was from the Way of the Closed Fist. She had not learned anything else.

Zuko narrowed his stance again and opened his palms.

He deflected her next attack and caught her wrist. Her eyes widened in shock as he quickly locked her elbow and drove her into the deck. There was a brief moment where he had her. He’d won. He’d finally beaten Azula!

With a loud, painful-sounding pop, she dislocated her arm, twisted out of the hold and curled her legs into her chest. With both feet, she kicked out, blasting Zuko away from her with searing blue flame. He landed hard, but scrambled upright as fast as he could before she could take advantage of the situation. Azula glared at him, a few hairs falling out of place as she popped her arm back into its socket.

She opened her stance and pointed her fingers, making a trail of sparks. Zuko raised his hands to defend himself. She traced two overlapping circles through the air with lightning, the same power she had used to bring down a flying bison in one shot. He braced himself, gritting his teeth.

He hadn’t beaten her, after all.

Azula thrust her hand forward, but before the bolt could spring forth to strike him down, Uncle appeared. Grabbing her wrist, the lightning flowed up his arm instead. He lowered his center with a grimace, and then pointed his other arm out towards the open sea. The lightning bolt leapt from his fingertips and struck the ocean some distance away. Thunder rolled, echoing off the islands.

With a simple shift of his weight, Iroh shoved Azula backwards. Unfortunately, nobody was left to prevent the rest of the firebenders from boarding the ship. Zuko watched in horror as his Uncle, showing signs of weariness, turned to shield himself from a dozen incoming balls of fire only to be thrown backwards against the railing and fall. The force and intensity of the flames was enough to ignite the deck of the ship. 

“Uncle!” Zuko cried out, but Azula shot a fireball past him in warning.

“This battle is over, Zuzu,” Azula said, brushing aside her loose hair strands as if they were discussing the matter over tea instead of aboard a burning ship. “I’ve been more than reasonable about all of this, but you decided to throw a tantrum like always. I suppose some things will never change. Now, are you going to surrender, or do you want to join that old fool on the ground?”

Zuko’s inner fire leapt. He poured his rage into it, fanned it with his resentment and regret, and stoked it with his determination to win, here and now, against his sister. He spat fire, and let his hands ignite. Azula sighed, smirked, and then raised her own hands, wreathed as they were in blue flame, in challenge. With a mighty roar, Zuko charged forward.

Three steps away, he drew his fist back, bending all of his might into this one blow.

Two steps away, he punched.

One step away, he unleashed his fire.

Azula did the same.

Their flames met in the middle, and an explosion rocked the ship. Blue engulfed orange, and Zuko was thrown backwards off his feet. He hit the deck and rolled, coming to a stop on his back. His head spun, but then he was surrounded by firebenders. Four pairs of hands pulled him up and held him tight. Azula approached, brushing a bit of ash off of her armor.

“Take him over to the Powerful ,” she ordered. “Keep him comfortable but secure. Arrest anyone else aboard this ship, and have Commander Daigo pursue those boats to the island.”

His vision was fading. He’d put too much into that failed attack. Azula leaned down so that she could look him in the eye one last time.

“We’ll try this again when you’ve calmed down,” she said. “After all, we have a lot of catching up to do. Don’t we, Zuzu?”

Azula returned to the Powerful to ensure that Zuko and her Uncle were safely locked away, entrusting the job of securing the Tamushiba to her firebender cohort. Uncle neither resisted nor spoke to her, which was entirely acceptable. He was no more than an infuriating old fool whose opinion meant less than nothing to her. Zuko’s retainer was thrown in the brig, the first of many prisoners yet to come. It wasn’t long into the operation that a sailor came to find her.

“Your Highness, we found someone aboard the Tamushiba claiming to be an agent of the Ministry of Secrets,” he said. “They were sealed in the brig, along with four others.”

“Ah, good,” Azula said. “Bring me our agent at once.”

A middle-aged woman with brown hair and dark skin was brought before her. She bowed low, waiting for Azula to address her.

“Rise,” Azula said. “You claim to be an agent of the Ministry of Secrets. Name and rank?”

“Commander Mitsu, Special Investigations Bureau,” she said. “Alias: Lieutenant Zan.”

“And what were your orders?” Azula asked.

“To remain embedded within the inner circle of General Iroh and report on his doings while awaiting further instructions,” Commander Mitsu said. “Most recently, I was ordered to do everything in my power to frustrate Prince Zuko’s escape.”

“I infer from your reports that you have been in this role for some time,” Azula said.

“Ten years, Your Highness,” Commander Mitsu replied. “I was placed within General Iroh’s army ahead of the siege of Ba Sing Se.”

“Well, I believe congratulations are in order, Commander,” Azula said. “Thanks to your reports and your timely intervention, my brother and Uncle will finally be brought to justice, and this shameful chapter in our nation’s history will be finished. At long last, your contributions will be recognized and honored.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Commander Mitsu said, bowing low once again. “I was merely doing my duty to my nation and Fire Lord.”

“Quite right,” Azula said. “I will see your efforts generously rewarded. We are returning to Capital City directly. You will remain aboard the Powerful and debrief with your superiors on our return.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

“You are dismissed.”

Sokka watched as the Powerful sailed away southwest, the sun having sunk below the horizon at last. There were uncontained fires on the Tamushiba , which was now under the shadow of a Fire Navy heavy cruiser. He could see prisoners being led up a gangplank onto it. In a sheltered cove of the Mother Lion Turtle behind him, three skiffs were tied together. Appa remained on his iceberg, since there wasn’t enough of a beach for him to lay on. Lieutenant Touma, the Master-at-Arms, and the Quartermaster were organizing the remaining crew.

He rejoined Aang and Katara, shaking his head. Aang’s shoulders drooped, so Katara gave him a comforting hug. He was devastated. Sokka felt the same. Before they had much time to themselves, however, Lieutenant Touma approached them.

“Avatar, Sokka, Katara,” he said. “We’d like a word.”

“His name is Aang,” Sokka said, although his heart wasn’t in it. He was scolding the wrong person.

“Avatar Aang, then,” Lieutenant Touma said. “We don’t have much time, and we need to discuss our next move. We’d like you to join us.”

“Okay,” Aang said.

“To reiterate,” Lieutenant Touma said when they joined the other officers. “More than half the officers and crew have been captured, including His Highness Prince Zuko, General Iroh, Captain Jee, Chief Engineer Tatsuo, the Cook, and Boatswain Shiro. Prince Zuko’s retainer, Taiyou, is also missing.”

“So in terms of firebenders, we have Jin Hui, Zoran, and Haram,” the Quartermaster said. “We also have our specialists: Nikko, Kaen, and Jia. We have the Helmsman. We have few supplies, few weapons, and three skiffs.”

“What happened to the others?” Sokka asked.

“Captured, likely,” the Master-at-Arms said. “The Boatswain was preparing the collapsible boats for launch while Captain Jee took charge of the fourth skiff. If they were interrupted, they wouldn’t have been able to launch.”

“Are we making a plan to rescue them?” Katara asked.

The officers exchanged looks. Lieutenant Touma sighed.

“No, we are not,” he said firmly.

“Why not?” Aang asked. “They’re your friends—your crewmates! Don’t you want to save them?”

“We have a mission more important than a doomed rescue attempt,” Lieutenant Touma said.

“But what about Zuko?” Aang cried. “You can’t just let them take him away!”

“Avatar Aang, please!” Lieutenant Touma said sharply. Sokka instinctively stepped in front of Aang, just enough to interpose himself in a fight. Katara mirrored him on Aang’s other side. The Quartermaster put out a placating hand.

“Our duty here is clear,” she said. “His Highness’s mission since the North Pole has been to see this war ended. The way we accomplish that is by helping you, Avatar Aang, reach the city of Omashu in Earth Kingdom-held territory.”

“Whether you agree or not, our immediate priority is to ensure that His Highness’s sacrifice isn’t in vain,” the Master-at-Arms said. 

“Don’t say that,” Sokka said angrily. “Don’t say that like he’s dead.”

“Dead or captured, he stayed behind to buy us time and make sure we could escape,” the Master-at-Arms said. “It’s a poor way to thank him, wasting that time arguing semantics.”

“So what’s the plan, then?” Katara asked, putting her arm around Aang’s shoulders.

“The plan is piracy,” Lieutenant Touma said. “We’ve set lookouts on the rocks to keep an eye out for which ships approach us with how many boats to bring us in. We’ll sail out against the ship that we judge to have committed the most and capture it. Once we’ve taken control, we will set sail for Omashu.”

“But they’ll be chasing you,” Katara pointed out. “There’s no way you can do this without the other ships seeing.”

“If you can disable their weapons, then it will hardly matter,” the Master-at-Arms said.

“Appa’s still pretty hurt,” Aang said. “I don’t know if he’ll be able to fly.”

“I can try to heal him again, Aang,” Katara said, although she didn’t sound confident.

“If you can get your bison flying again, then we will rely on you to disable the other ships’ trebuchets,” Lieutenant Touma said. “If not, then our first priority will be to deploy the trebuchets of whatever ship we capture immediately to defend ourselves while we get up to steam.”

“Wait, I have an idea,” Sokka said, squinting at Appa’s iceberg. “Katara, you and Aang are master waterbenders. If Appa can’t fly, you can still reach the other ships and take out their propellers.”

“Hey, you’re right!” Aang said, perking up. “What do you think, Katara?”

“It’s a lot easier to surf on an iceberg if there’s just one person on it,” Katara said, tapping her chin. “But how can we destroy a ship’s propellers? They’re huge and made of metal.”

“Encasing them in ice should be sufficient,” the Quartermaster said.

“That’s easy,” Aang said. “Then they won’t be able to chase us!”

“We’ll still be within range of their trebuchets, but that’s a risk we’ll have to take,” Lieutenant Touma said. “Takeshi!”

“Yes, Lieutenant!” Takeshi said, jogging up.

“Take charge of the Avatar’s bison. You’ll be responsible for bringing it over to the ship we capture.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Lieutenant!” a lookout called from above. “They’re deploying skiffs! A medium cruiser due north dropped four boats!”

“Direction of approach?” Lieutenant Touma called back.

“They’re splitting up,” the lookout called. “Two from the east and two from the west!”

“Lieutenant!” Katara said. “If Aang and I are in the lead boat, we can capsize the enemy boats before they get too close.”

“Very well,” Lieutenant Touma said. “We’ll be relying on you two to clear the way.”

He turned and called the sailors to order. They gathered in their skiffs, untying them from each other and launching. Appa was secured by a stronger harness and pulled behind the middle skiff. Sokka stayed with him while Aang and Katara went with Lieutenant Touma in the front.

Two enemy skiffs, visible by their lanterns, came into view as they swung around the eastern side of the island, a medium cruiser roughly the same size and profile as the Tamushiba floating some distance away. Sokka prepared for a firefight as the lead skiffs approached each other, but instead an enormous spout of water shot up underneath the bow of the enemy boat, capsizing it. Firebenders splashed in the water as Sokka’s skiff sailed past. The other enemy skiff, seeing this, tried to keep its distance, but Aang and Katara bent a wave that struck it broadside. More firebenders ended up in the sea.

“Woo! Yeah, take that!” Sokka whooped as the firebenders tried to swim towards them.

“That was amazing!” Takeshi said in awe. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”

“You mean that you’re on our side,” Sokka said.

“Eyes up, everyone,” the Master-at-Arms called back. “The hard part comes next.”

The cruiser was preparing for them. They could see sailors running back and forth on the deck. But here again, Aang and Katara cleared the path: riding two spouts of water, they launched themselves up to the top deck of the ship. Flashes of fire were doused by seawater, clouds of steam lightly obscuring parts of the deck. The first skiff arrived and threw up lines. When the second skiff arrived, Sokka scurried up the closest rope he could reach to join his friends in the fray.

Without marines to defend the ship from attack, the captain surrendered quickly. Sokka stayed on the top deck to help the Master-at-Arms deploy the trebuchets while Kaen and Nikko took control of the engine room. Appa was hauled up onto the ship by a team of the freshly-captured crew. Those who refused to cooperate were given a life jacket and thrown overboard.

The other ships in the fleet attempted pursuit, but the night was cloudy and once they were clear of the islands Lieutenant Touma ordered the new ship’s lamps doused. They sailed in darkness.

“We’ll be in Fire Nation home waters soon,” Lieutenant Touma told Sokka on the bridge, looking over a sea chart. “If we can avoid the Home Fleet patrols, we’ll be in Earth Kingdom waters within the week.”

“Great,” Sokka said. “Thanks.”

Lieutenant Touma frowned sympathetically at him. Sokka glared back.

“He knew the risks when he asked us to join him,” Lieutenant Touma said. “He knew what it might cost.”

“Yeah, well,” Sokka said. “I’m not happy about it.”

He left before the other man could offer any further sympathy and went to find the others. They were huddled under a blanket next to Appa’s front leg. Momo was curled up in Aang’s lap.

“Hey, move over,” Sokka said, grabbing a corner of the blanket for himself. “Looks like we’ll be in Omashu in a week.”

“Good!” Katara said. “I’ll be so glad to be away from here!”

“Yeah,” Aang nodded in agreement. “I can’t believe Zuko got captured. I can’t believe his crew would just let that happen!”

“Once Appa’s better, I bet we could fly after them,” Katara said. “We’re faster on Appa than on a Fire Nation ship, anyway. The only reason we agreed to go with Zuko in the first place was because we thought it’d be safer. Boy, were we wrong about that.”

“But that wasn’t Zuko’s fault, was it?” Aang said. “He didn’t know about the spy.”

“Nobody did,” Sokka said.

They were quiet for a moment, listening to the wind and the waves. The stars were hidden. The only light was from an oil lamp next to Aang, which flickered and sputtered.

“He even said my name,” Aang said with a sigh. “We were almost friends!”

“We could still go after him,” Sokka said. “But the officers are right: we have to focus on ending the war, and that means Aang needs to learn earthbending. I don’t think we’ll find many earthbending masters in the Fire Nation.”

They were quiet again.

“I hate this!” Aang said suddenly, throwing his hands up. “I hate all this running, and meeting people then losing them, and being scared and worried all the time, and…and…augh!”

“I hate it, too, Aang,” Katara said. “But ending the war is what matters most.”

“Besides, if you tried to rescue Zuko now, he’d just yell at you,” Sokka said, picking his nose. He then put on his best Zuko impression. “‘What do you think you’re doing? You should be in Omashu! Friendship is stupid, and you’re a dumb, idiot peasant for wanting it!’” 

They all laughed.

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Sokka said, relaxing against Appa’s leg. “If Bumi’s half as good a teacher as he is a mad king, you’ll be moving mountains in no time.”

“Yeah,” Aang said. “I bet earthbending will be super easy!”

“You are annoyingly good at picking up new bending styles,” Katara said, flicking him on the forehead.

“See? Katara’s right,” Sokka said. “I bet you’ll be an earthbending master before the end of your first month.”

“And then firebending in a day!” Katara said with a grin.

“Well, maybe not a day,” Aang said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not after last time…”

“Aang, stop talking and let us cheer you up,” Sokka said. “Where was I? Oh right! Earthbending master by the end of the month. Firebending master in a week—I know he’s talented, Katara, but he’s not that talented—and the Fire Lord beaten before the end of spring. How’s that for a plan?”

“Well, I like it!” Aang said. “And then we can go to my favorite summer vacation spot in all the world.”

“Where’s that?” Katara asked.

“Rainlight Bay!” Aang said. “The sand and rocks are made of chalk, and the water is so warm and crystal clear! And, and, and, clam crab pearl diving is super fun! You can find the biggest pearls there! And it’s surrounded by a rainforest where you can eat star fruit and dragon fruit, and all kinds of tasty things!”

“There’s not going to be a giant monster secretly living there, is there?” Sokka asked drily. “Or did you forget the Unagi?”

“Or the giant isohound?” Katara added.

“Or that boar-q-pine nest,” Sokka said.

“Or the canyon crawlers,” Katara said.

“Hey, my ideas aren’t that bad!” Aang protested.

“No, but you do have to admit you tend to visit places that have a lot of big, dangerous monsters,” Sokka said. “And I can’t kill and eat them, Aang. They’re too big. All that meat…mocking me with its un-eat-able-ness.”

“Well, last time I checked there’s no monsters in Rainlight Bay,” Aang said. “Although… I guess clam crabs can grow to be pretty large…”

“See? We’re not going,” Sokka said.

“I kind of want to see it,” Katara said. “I think it sounds like a great place to go on vacation.”

“Yeah, see? Katara agrees with me,” Aang said. “And since the war will be over, we can bring Zuko, too.”

“Oh, no, he’d hate it,” Sokka said, shaking his head authoritatively. “You’d have to teach him how to ‘relax’ and ‘have fun,’ and I just don’t think he’s capable of it.”

“Oh come on, Sokka, everyone knows how to have fun,” Aang said. “We just have to find what he likes!”

“He likes yelling and getting on my case,” Sokka said. “Which would totally ruin my vacation.”

“I thought you weren’t going,” Katara teased.

“Look, if I don’t go, Aang’s going to get eaten by a giant clam crab,” Sokka said. “Nobody wants that.”

They continued talking late into the night until they were too sleepy to continue. Sokka went inside to see if they had any cabins open when he encountered Jin Hui standing by the door to the deckhouse. He looked troubled.

“Hi,” Sokka said. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” Jin Hui said with a sigh. “But it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Okay,” Sokka said. “Uh, do you know if there are any available cabins? Aang and Katara are getting sleepy, and it’s too cold out here.”

“I believe there are some available upstairs,” Jin Hui said. “Let me give you a hand.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to,” Sokka said.

“I do, actually,” Jin Hui said. “His Highness ordered me to keep you safe.”

“Wait, is that what you’ve been doing outside?” Sokka asked, askance. “Watching us?”

“Yes,” Jin Hui said. “And I have a request to make of the Avatar. But it can wait until morning.”

“What is it?” Sokka asked.

“I would like to join you when you travel to the Earth Kingdom,” he said. “I have my own reasons apart from Prince Zuko’s orders.”

“Look…I don’t know, that’s a lot to ask,” Sokka said.

“Please consider it, at least,” Jin Hui said. They had arrived where Aang and Katara were passed out on the deck. Jin Hui lifted Aang like he weighed nothing, while Sokka wrangled Katara sleepily upright. “I will explain myself properly tomorrow. Let’s get you three inside.”

They found a four-person bunk room that must have belonged to either firebenders or specialist crew. Aang and Katara got both of the bottom bunks. Jin Hui bowed at the door.

“Good night,” he said, and turned to leave.

“Hey, wait!” Sokka called, jogging after him. “I’ve got a question for you.”

“What is it?” Jin Hui asked.

“Um. So you’re Zuko’s retainer, right?” Sokka said. “Did you know about him and Yura?”

“Yes,” Jin Hui said. “Prince Zuko confided in me several times on such matters. We’re the same, you see.”

“The same?” Sokka said. “What do you mean?”

“Our hearts cannot be tamed except by other men,” Jin Hui said. “Prince Zuko struggled greatly with his feelings, because of who he is and how the Fire Nation views such relationships. So, I gave him the help that I wish I had gotten when I was young and going through the same struggles.”

“Right,” Sokka said, looking away in embarrassment. Jin Hui had clearly given Zuko the talk that fathers were supposed to give their sons when they came of age. Sokka’s Dad had gone off to war before he could do that for Sokka, so Gran-gran had to do it.

“Now I have a question for you,” Jin Hui said, interrupting Sokka’s reverie. “Do you know how Prince Zuko looks at you?”

Sokka blinked, and stammered out something unconvincing. Of course he knew. He also wanted to take that secret with him to the grave, much less tell this nosy ashmaker anything. Jin Hui simply nodded and smiled a small, annoying smile of comprehension.

“When you see him again—”

“If I see him again,” Sokka interjected.

“When,” Jin Hui insisted.

“How can you be so sure of that!?” Sokka cried.

“He’s escaped certain death before. He’ll do it again,” Jin Hui said. “So when you meet him again, if his feelings haven’t changed, please remember that he isn’t very good at expressing himself with words. And he’s had his heart broken before. Please, treat him kindly.”

With that, Jin Hui bowed and walked off. Sokka watched him go, his mouth hanging open slightly. Treat him kindly? That would require Zuko to be capable of receiving kindness in the first place! He clicked his tongue in annoyance and stalked back to the cabin to claim one of the top bunks.

Firebenders were stupid and dumb.

He dreamed that night of Zuko, of a conversation without words passing between them, interspersed with memories of a touch, of a hand, of a kiss. Waking up briefly, his face wet with tears, he prayed to the Moon and the Sea that Zuko would be fine. But he didn’t really believe they were listening, and when he fell back into the dream the conversation became murky and indistinct, slipping through his indecisive fingers like fine sand or mist.

Chapter Text

It was early autumn in Yokoya, and the leaves had not yet begun to turn. Sokka sat on the porch of the house Oyaji had lent them for their stay this time, a fresh journal open on a low table in front of him. Aang and Katara were down in the bay surfing, which was to say, showing off for the locals; however, now that they were both master waterbenders it became something of a competition rather than simply Aang inflating his own ego. Sokka rarely enjoyed it when they did that, because he always ended up getting dunked. So instead of subjecting himself to that humiliation, he decided to take a Sokka Day.

It hadn’t been going well.

Suki had left for the Earth Kingdom over the summer, taking a large contingent of the Kyoshi Warriors with her, so there wasn’t anyone left for him to train with at the dojo. He still went to practice—makeup, traditional clothes, and all—but it didn’t feel right. He ended up leaving after less than an hour.

Well, if training wasn’t an option, then he could always make himself feel better by going shopping. They had plenty of money, for once, and Sokka was eager to spend it. Unfortunately, early autumn was the off-season for traders, so the market pickings were slim: fish, fish, local fruits, more fish, and some wooden fish-shaped trinkets. Sokka gorged himself on fish—meat was meat, and the local filets were delicious—and he haggled a good price for a new journal, but his shopping list remained otherwise incomplete, which spoiled his mood.

At some point he passed by Jin Hui meditating outside the Avatar Kyoshi shrine. He decided he’d rather not talk to him right now.

Thus, he found himself back at their lodging with his brand new journal. Tapping the end of his brush against the blank first page, he frowned into the middle distance. Where could he possibly start? So much had happened! He sighed, and dipped the brush into ink. Might as well say any old thing before his thought-cluttered brain exploded.

Houka 7, Mutsuki 28, Keichitsu — 4th Year of Happy Bear, 1st Month, 28th Day

Dear diary,

It’s been two weeks since we left Omashu. The Fire Nation captured it and locked Bumi up, so now we have to find Aang a new earthbending teacher. We’re looking for someone who listens to the earth, and Aang says he’s been having spirit visions of flying pigs, so clearly they’re both crazy.

Sokka paused his writing to slap at a mosquito buzzing around his arm, blotting the page. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and wrote around it.

Jin Hui is traveling with us trying to find out what happened to his boyfriend. It’s been kind of awkward having him around. He’s not really all that talkative. But he does a lot of the work when we have to camp anywhere, and doesn’t mind giving us space. Even Katara tolerates him, despite the fact that he’s a firebender. I’ve got to hand it to him, he has monk-like patience.

Sokka chuckled to himself, remembering how easy in the end it had been to win over Katara. They had a chore rotation—Sokka kept a list—and Katara complained often that she had to do laundry more than the others, which was true. It wasn’t because she was a girl and the others were boys, it was simply (and Sokka would swear on his grave this was true) that she was the least likely to mess it up: Aang got overeager using airbending to dry their clothes, resulting in something flying off never to be seen again, and on more than one occasion Sokka got so frustrated trying to get out a stain that he tore a garment. They still didn’t talk about the Clothesline Incident. Not that this reasoning mollified Katara, and one afternoon it escalated into a full-blown argument. Jin Hui, rather than intervene, simply washed and dried their dirty clothes by himself.

Katara took exception to his generosity.

For a solid week, she pushed all her chores onto Jin Hui, who quietly accepted them. Not only that, but they were finished with military efficiency. The clothes were cleaned and repaired; the meals were cooked and cleared; the tents were pitched; the supplies were organized. Katara was left to stew on the fact that her attempts to be petty garnered no reaction from the older man. Finally, she snapped.

“Hey!” she said one day as he was gathering their dirty clothes. “We don’t need your help.”

“Would you like to do the laundry today?” he asked mildly.

“No, I mean, you can stop…taking over our camp!” Katara yelled. “We were doing just fine before you stuck your nose in our business!”

“What business do you imagine I am sticking my nose in?” Jin Hui replied.

“Uh, all of it?” Katara said. “You don’t even belong here! It should just be Aang, Sokka, and me! We didn’t invite you to join us, Aang’s just too nice to turn you out!”

“Uh, Katara,” Sokka said, leaning in from the sidelines. “He does all of our chores without complaining.”

“Shut up, Sokka!” she retorted. 

“Yeah, he’s really helpful,” Aang said. “Plus, he tells the best puns!”

“Nevermind, I’m with Katara on this one,” Sokka said, frowning at Aang. “I’m the funny guy, Aang, and I’ll be a hog monkey’s uncle before I let some firebender take that away from me.”

Jin Hui smiled, and his expression took on a melancholic air.

“I’m sorry if my presence here bothers you,” he said, bowing. “I’m afraid I won’t allow you to send me away, but if you would prefer not to see me as frequently, I will leave you in peace once I have finished the laundry.”

Then he took the clothes and left. Sokka shifted his weight so he could comfortably observe his sister’s embarrassment. She’d had a pretty childish outburst in front of an adult who hadn’t even gotten mad at her for it.

“So…” he said. “Do you wanna talk about it, sis?”

She sighed, and put a hand to her forehead.

“No,” she said.

“You know, Katara,” Aang said carefully, glancing at Sokka. “Jin Hui’s probably hurting, too. Especially after what happened at the Lion Turtle Rocks.”

“Yeah, I know…” she said. “Fine, I’ll apologize when he’s done.”

And she did. Jin Hui accepted it, but took pains not to stick around the campsite longer than necessary even so. Still, Sokka thought, chewing on the end of his brush while a refreshing sea breeze blew in off the bay, it was probably the best possible outcome for everyone. Aang could sneak off to meditate and crack jokes, Sokka didn’t have to worry about any of the chores not being done, and Katara could stop being stressed about a firebender hanging around them all the time. Everybody won.

Although, speaking of firebenders… Sokka began, putting brush to page once more.

The rest of the crew split up once we got to the Earth Kingdom. They scuttled the ship and let the slaves go—yeah, the Fire Nation has been using slaves to work in their ships. Some of them went to the colonies to join rebel groups, and some of them went into the Earth Kingdom for safety. Takeshi and Akihito went after the Rough Rhinos and completely took them over! Then they changed the name to the Ready Rhinos, which is not as cool-sounding in my opinion. At least there’s one less Fire Nation mercenary group to worry about.

After we got away from Omashu, we met up with General Fong in the Earth Kingdom army. He taught Aang about the Avatar State: that thing where he goes all glowy and his bending gets crazy strong. General Fong wanted him to use it to retake Omashu, but Aang said no, because there are still innocent people there that might get hurt, and he can’t really control his power yet. General Fong didn’t like that answer.

Sokka put the brush down. His left ankle and knee throbbed at the memory of their time at General Fong’s fortress.

Aang leveled the place, and then the Fire Nation attacked. We were lucky to escape.

He sat back and considered his lines, then shook his head. That would have to do for a summary. They’d heard later about the Battle of the Mountains, but nobody seemed certain if anyone had won or if the two sides had simply dug in again once the fighting had reached a stalemate. It was clear to Sokka that if the Fire Army had prevailed, they’d have been chased south as far as Kyoshi Island. That they hadn’t seemed proof that General Fong was still alive and kicking. And as long as he was kicking the Fire Nation, Sokka didn’t care.

Searching for Aang’s new earthbending teacher has been exhausting. We’re taking a break on Kyoshi Island until we decide where to go next. I think we should head east towards Chameleon Bay and try to find Dad and the fleet. Dad’s great at figuring things out, and I bet he knows a ton of earthbenders by now. He could help us find the perfect teacher for Aang!

Katara thinks we should try going to Ba Sing Se, and I hate to admit it but she has a good point: it’s the biggest city in the world, there’s bound to be someone there who listens to the earth who could teach Aang how to earthbend. And he’s the Avatar, he could ask the Earth King directly to help him out! Aang is against it, though. Apparently Ba Sing Se was really seedy 100 years ago, or something. He never wanted to visit, and he’s been nearly everywhere. Anyway, Chameleon Bay is closer than Ba Sing Se.

I miss Suki. I was really hoping to reconnect with her, but after the Fire Nation attack last year she and the other warriors left to go support the Earth Kingdom in the war. I heard they were escorting refugees through dangerous territory. I wonder if she’s gotten prettier? I wonder if she’d still like me—no, of course she would! I’m a man now, and a true warrior. I’m not the dumb boy who got his butt kicked for talking down to a girl anymore. It would’ve been nice to show her that I’ve changed.

If Zuko were here

Sokka forcefully put the brush down and didn’t finish that sentence. Thinking about Prince Zuko made him angry. He felt foolish for thinking he’d maybe fallen in love with the Fire Prince for even a second. The Fire Prince who was demonstrably as brave and noble as he was rude and impatient. Who was far too hot for how moody he was. Who goaded Sokka into kissing him. Who had tried to be nicer because Sokka asked him to.

I’m done with Zuko.

Sokka read the sentence back, and then crossed it out. It was a mean thing to say about someone who was certainly going through painful torture in Fire Nation jail. Maybe royals got different treatment, but whatever the case Sokka couldn’t imagine it was good. But Zuko still chose his so-called “duty” over Sokka, and yeah, he was going to stay mad about it, because if Zuko hadn’t done that then he’d be here! With him! Or rather, with them! He let out a frustrated growl he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.

He was mad at Zuko, sure, but he was more mad at himself. All the people he’d liked so far had ditched him in the end, and maybe it was his fault for feeling feelings while on a whirlwind, globe-trotting quest to save the world, but it’s not like he could help that. Still, it stung something fierce that he’d made the same mistake twice. When was he going to meet someone who would choose him over duty?

When was he going to be someone’s number one priority?

Someone who wasn’t Gran-gran, that was, and even Gran-gran had to split her attention between two kids. Dad was off being leaderly and chieftain-like, so he had an excuse. It hurt, but Sokka could forgive him.

He shook himself and picked up the brush. He was getting off track. The rest of the afternoon he spent journaling and resolutely not thinking any deeper about Zuko, or Yue, or his disappointment that Suki wasn’t around. If she had been, maybe he could’ve asked her out, and then he could actually date someone who was noble, and strong, and not going to leave him for some higher calling.

She’d arguably already done that. But it wasn’t like she knew Sokka was going to come back and visit while she was away! It was just…bad timing.

“Hey, Sokka!”

He looked up to see Aang running towards him.

“Guess what! We found a lion otter nest! There were three cubs, and they let us play with them, and they were so cute!”

“It was pretty fun,” Katara said, walking up at a more sedate pace. Sokka pushed the writing table to the side so the three of them could sit together. “You missed out.”

“My day was just fine, thanks,” Sokka replied, smiling at how relaxed his sister and his best friend looked as they sprawled on the porch. “Did the foaming-mouth guy show up again?”

“Yeah, but he only foamed a little bit today!” Aang said.

“Well, we have been here for a few days already,” Katara pointed out. “Once the novelty wears off, even your biggest fan can calm down.”

“Then we should probably leave before we overstay our welcome,” Sokka said. “Have you decided where we’ll go next, Aang?”

“I still think—” Katara began.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Sokka cut her off. “We agreed Aang got to choose, even though we should definitely go to Chameleon Bay.”

“Hey, how’s that being fair?” Katara said. “We need to be thinking about the best place to find Aang a teacher.”

“Actually, I was asking around town, and I think I may know where to go next,” Aang said. “I think we should head towards Gaoling.”

“Why there?” Katara asked.

“Well, there’s apparently a really famous earthbending academy there,” Aang said. “No offense to you guys, but the places you picked are both really far away. Gaoling is just a few days flight, if we don’t get distracted!”

“That’s a big if,” Sokka said drily.

“I mean…” Aang said, tapping his fingers together. “We haven’t been elephant armadillo riding in southern Yi yet.”

“I’m sorry, elephant what now?” Katara asked.

“Elephant armadillos! They’re really big, but they’re so sweet-tempered, and you can ride them around the jungle!”

Sokka and Katara exchanged looks.

“I don’t know, Aang,” Katara said. “It sounds kind of…”

“We’re not going,” Sokka said.

“Why not?” Aang exclaimed. “You said I could choose!”

“And you chose Gaoling,” Sokka said. Aang’s lower lip quivered, and Sokka heaved a big sigh. “Can we at least go somewhere I won’t get trampled by an animal the size of a house?”

“How about we go see the water buffalo buffalo?” Aang offered. “They’re only this big.”

He stood and stretched his hand up so that he was standing on his toes. Sokka shook his head.

“Smaller,” he said.

“Hm. Pangolin pandas?”

“Smaller.”

“Badger hares!”

“Less aggressive.”

“Parrot apes?”

“What are those?” 

“You’ve never seen a parrot ape?” Aang gasped in shock. Sokka shook his head. “Well, I just happen to know a place where we might find them: Monkey Island!”

“Let me guess, it’s called that because it’s full of monkeys,” Sokka said.

“Yeah, all kinds of them!” Aang said. “And, a hundred years ago, when you went to the main town, you could buy treats to feed the monkeys from local sellers. I guarantee, it’ll be totally safe and fun!”

“It could be worth looking into,” Katara said. “I wouldn’t mind a quick stop.”

“Fine,” Sokka relented. “We’ll go, but this is our only side trip, okay?”

“Yes! I promise you won’t regret it,” Aang said. “Monkey Island, here we come!”

Two days later…

The basket was silent as they flew away from Monkey Island. Sokka had a handkerchief shoved up both nostrils, which served the dual purposes of staunching the flow of blood (he was pretty sure his nose was broken now, despite Katara’s assurance that it wasn’t) and preventing him from smelling the monkey poop he and the others were splattered with. Their bags had been vigorously rifled through, and things had most definitely been taken. Jin Hui was currently sorting through and re-packing them, a frown fixed on his dark face. Katara sat across from Sokka, staring blankly into the middle distance, her hair as disheveled as her clothes. One of the monkeys had yanked her hair loops out. Sokka mutely handed her their mother’s necklace, which he had barely managed to snatch back from the ape that stole it from her. She accepted it without comment.

Aang, who sat at the front of the basket holding the reins, turned back towards them.

“The peanut banana ice cream was good, wasn’t it?” he said. Sokka and Katara shot him identical withering glares. He gulped.

“Well, at least I saved my mask?” he said with a nervous laugh, holding up a wooden monkey mask that he had bought for far too much money in town. Even Jin Hui shook his head in disgust. Aang sheepishly turned back around and cracked the reins. Appa lowed, flying marginally faster. Sokka opened his journal to a fresh page and wrote:

Houka 7, Kisaragi 1, Keichitsu - 4th Year of Happy Bear, 2nd Month, 1st Day

Dear diary,

I hate parrot apes. I hate Monkey Island. And I hate Aang.

If Zuko had been here, he never would’ve allowed this.

***

It was late afternoon in Pang Da Port. Sokka and the others sat on the docks, watching the sunset over Mt. Baihu. His journal was out, and he was scribbling away with a stick of charcoal while Katara and Aang shared a packet of batter-fried lotus roots. Jin Hui was off taking care of his own business.

Houka 7, Kisaragi 3, Keichitsu - 4th Year of Happy Bear, 2nd Month, 3rd Day

Dear diary,

Dad was here a month ago! The fleet helped stop the Fire Nation attack over the summer, and then they set sail back for Chameleon Bay. That means Bato and the others got to them on time. Also, I was right that Dad has exactly the kind of connections we could use to find Aang an earthbending teacher! They said that the fleet stops at Pang Da Port every few months, so maybe if we stick around long enough Dad will come to us.

Tomorrow we’re going up to Gaoling City to meet with Master Yu at his famous earthbending academy. There are posters up everywhere advertising free lessons, which is convenient. We can see if he’s a good teacher for Aang without having to pay anything. Master Pakku considered it an honor to teach the Avatar how to waterbend, but I guess we can’t expect everyone to do it for free. Besides, everything in the Earth Kingdom costs money, unless we save a town from a raging forest spirit, or an erupting volcano.

At that moment, Jin Hui appeared on the dock, walking towards them.

“Everyone, I’ve secured lodgings for the night,” he said. “The innkeeper will provide us dinner, and she offered us a discount on her brother’s bathhouse.”

“I could go for a hot bath,” Katara said.

“Me, too,” Aang said with a tired sigh. “It must be nice being a firebender. You can make hot water whenever you want!”

“Hey, Aang,” Sokka said, elbowing his friend and looking pointedly at a nearby ship that was being unloaded. “It’s a good thing we don’t know any firebenders, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Aang said, a little loudly. “I was just saying, if firebending wasn’t totally bad. It could be useful? Not that any of us are firebenders!”

Sokka suppressed a groan, and then looked over at the sailors to see if they were listening. One or two watched them with bemusement, but they didn’t seem to care. Jin Hui remained stoic in the face of potentially having his cover blown.

After a nice supper, they went to the bathhouse. The men’s side was crowded with a mix of sailors, young and old. Sokka, Aang, and Jin Hui rinsed off the day’s dirt and grime, and shouldered their way into the hot water tub. Sokka found himself squished between the other two, and his feet were definitely touching someone else’s under the water. He made an un-manly eep and lifted his feet up onto the bench. Luckily, nobody heard over the sounds of water splashing and Aang loudly admiring a nearby sailor’s tattoos.

“And what’s that? Is that an elephant whale?” he asked, pointing at a sailor’s back.

“Sure is, little man,” the sailor in question replied, turning so he could see the whole thing. “It stands for strength and virility. Want to see me make it swim?”

The sailor began flexing his back muscles, making the elephant whale wiggle up and down.

“Woah!” Aang said, boggle-eyed.

“That’s nothing,” another sailor said. “Look at this!”

He flexed his arm, making the shark tiger tattooed there appear to pounce with its front paws. This set off a wave of others showing off their tattoos. Sokka’s face flushed, and not just because of the heat of the tub. This whole display of skin made him feel a distinct discomfort in his gut, one that Aang evidently did not share. Even Jin Hui seemed perfectly at ease in this setting, chatting with the men sitting near him. Sokka frowned and sank down further into the water while still keeping his feet on the bench. Was there something wrong with him?

“You’ve got some impressive ink, yourself, little man,” one sailor said, prodding one of Aang’s arrows.

“Thanks,” Aang said, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “They’re just arrows, but I bet I can make them dance!”

He stood fully up in the bath and made his arms wave. The others laughed—Aang looked pretty silly—but that was all it took to ingratiate him, and Aang was grilling the sailors for fish tales in no time. Sokka half-listened in, his discomfort growing as he began focusing on random details of the bodies around him: the way one man’s jaw appeared more or less sharp as he talked; the way one man’s soft belly rose and fell as he laughed; the coil of thick, muscular thighs as one man shifted his weight; water rivulets running over a bare, tattooed shoulder.

Sokka sat up abruptly, crossing one leg over the other, and forced himself to tune into Jin Hui’s conversation. The uncomfortable heat had condensed in his groin, and he was now painfully hard. In a public bath. He had to distract himself.

“Hey, Jin,” he said, tapping the firebender on the shoulder. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Recent news from the colonies,” Jin Hui said. He waved to the two older men that he had been conversing with. They’d both been in the tub long enough that they were as wrinkled as raisins, but that might also have been due to age. “This is Hao and Deng. Gentlemen, this is Sokka.”

“Water Tribe, eh?” Hao said, nodding in appraisal. He was the fatter of the two, and he squinted as if his vision was leaving him. “You missed your fleet, my lad.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Sokka said. “You said there was news from the colonies?”

“There’s always news,” Deng said placidly. He seemed older, was missing a few teeth, and had a red lotus tattoo behind one ear. “War, piracy, spirit rumors, this and that.”

“Dark times to be a sailor,” Hao said, shaking his head. “Dark times.”

“Deng was just telling me about a story he heard from a merchant named Mitano,” Jin Hui said.

“Oh, what does the lad care about that?” Deng said dismissively. He focused his eyes on Sokka. “I’ve heard that one of your lot managed to sail a cutter clear through an ice field with nary a scratch!”

“Yeah, of course,” Sokka said. “That’s something most of us can do.”

“Right, right,” Deng said, nodding. “But this one did it…in the midst of a hurricane! With one eye closed!”

He paused for effect. Sokka merely raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you’re not much fun, are you?” Deng said.

“Dark times to be a storyteller,” Hao said, shaking his head. “Dark times.”

“Hey, I’m plenty of fun!” Sokka said indignantly. “Anyway, what did Mitano say?”

“He was saying something incredible happened in Capital City not three weeks ago: the battle of the century,” Deng said, affecting a dramatic tone. “They say the Traitor Prince was dragged before the royal court and made to fight…a dragon!”

“Trial by combat,” Hao said, nodding.

“An ancient rite, it is,” Deng said. “The sages choose the beast based on the severity of your crimes: a thief might have to fight a rabbaroo, whereas a murderer might face an enraged beetle stag or komodo rhino. But the Prince’s crimes were so terrible, they sicced a dragon on him!”

“According to the custom, if you defeat the beast, your crime is forgiven,” Hao said. “But if you lose…well.”

He drew a finger across his neck.

“The thing is…the Prince lost,” Deng said. “But rather than kill him, the dragon picked him up in its claws and carried him away to its mountain lair. They say the dragon will continue toying with the Prince until it grows bored, whereupon it’ll snap him up in its jaws like that!”

Deng clapped his hands together, mimicking dragon jaws closing over a helpless target. Sokka glanced between the two, his guts twisted in trepidation.

“No. That can’t be true. Is it?” He directed the question at Jin Hui, who simply shook his head.

“Of course it’s not ‘true,’” Deng said with disdain. “Dragons are extinct. Everyone knows that!”

“The last dragon was killed by the Dragon of the West some ten years back,” Hao said. “He stole its fire for himself, and used it to batter at the walls of Ba Sing Se. Lucky for us, it takes more than dragon fire to bring down those walls.”

“Well if it’s not true, then why tell it like that?” Sokka squawked.

“Where’s your sense of romance, boy? Never let the details get in the way of a good story,” Deng said. “Anyway, there’s some truth to the tale. Mitano’s known to embellish, but it’s true they finally captured the Traitor Prince and brought him to justice.”

“Wha—what does that mean, they ‘brought him to justice’?” Sokka asked.

“Dunno,” Deng shrugged. “Could be banishment. Execution. Jail for life. One hundred years of hard labor. Maybe he really was eaten by a dragon.”

“Well, if you don’t know what happened, how can you believe any of it?” Sokka asked.

“I suppose you can’t, not really,” Deng said, scratching his chin. “You learn who to trust, and you learn to sift through the sand for the salt.”

“It’s a real shame,” Hao said. “You don’t hear many tales about firebenders turning on their own nation. I suppose the ones that do don’t last very long on their own.”

“Not necessarily,” Sokka said. “My friends and I were in the colonies a while ago, and we met Jeong Jeong the Deserter.”

“Ah, now there’s a name with fame!” Deng said, grinning widely. “Go on, tell us the tale.”

Sokka was then roped into telling the two older men stories from his journeys with Aang, which at least had the benefit of giving him time to calm down and soften up. He, Aang, and Jin Hui met Katara outside the bathhouse, feeling clean and refreshed.

“We should leave early if we want to get to Gaoling before noon,” Katara said. “So make sure you don’t sleep in, Sokka.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sokka grumbled. “Aang snores!”

“I do not!” Aang said. “Anyway, you’ve got stinky breath. I’m not sleeping anywhere near you.”

“We have two rooms with two beds each,” Jin Hui said.

“How about this,” Sokka said. “Katara and I can room together, and Aang, you can stay with Jin Hui.”

“Aw,” Aang said with a mournful glance at Katara. “Fine.”

“See you guys in the morning,” Katara said, as she and Sokka went to their room. The beds were comfortable, even though the sheets were a little scratchy. Sokka slept like a baby, but dreamed of Zuko, burned and bleeding, facing off against a dragon with the Fire Lord’s ugly head.

***

Houka 7, Kisaragi 4, Keichitsu - 4th Year of Happy Bear, 2nd Month, 4th Day

Dear Diary,

We’re on our way to Gaoling City now. We’re traveling with a caravan while Appa goes somewhere else to eat. There’s a lot of farms on the way, and we don’t want to make anyone mad if he ruins their fields. The road is supposed to be safe. It’s nice to be able to relax.

I asked around the inn about the Traitor Prince, and I heard a lot of the same kinds of stories Deng and Hao told me last night. I think Zuko’s in serious danger. I haven’t told Aang, because he might abandon the quest to go rescue him. Jin Hui knows, and he’s not saying anything either. He must really trust Zuko to keep following his orders. I told the lady at the inn to let me know if she heard any updates—I made up a story about how I had a buddy who sailed with the Traitor Prince’s crew—so I hope we do stay in Gaoling City for a while.

The bathhouse was weird last night. The only other guy I’ve reacted like that around was Zuko. I don’t even know why it happened. It felt totally different to when I see a pretty girl! I wish we were going to see Dad, I bet he knows all about this kind of stuff. Jin Hui could probably tell me, but I don’t want to ask him.

Oh no, what if Aang starts to become a man before we beat the Fire Lord? What if he asks me questions? What if I can’t answer them? What if I give him bad advice?

That’s ridiculous. He’s 12, the Fire Lord will be dead and buried by the end of the summer. I should be cool about this. Maybe it was a fluke! Yeah. If it doesn’t happen again, then I’ve got nothing to worry about.

***

Houka 7, Kisaragi 4, Keichitsu - 4th Year of Happy Bear, 2nd Month, 4th Day

Dear Diary,

The Boulder does not count.

Chapter Text

The day after the Avatar strolled into a Pang Da Port bathhouse, rumors spread far and wide, whispers flying in the wind to all four corners of the world. Deng and Hao were playing pai sho when they were approached by a pair of young men perhaps no older than twenty or twenty five asking questions.

“Good morning, Uncle Deng! Uncle Hao!”

“Good morning Haku, Pei,” Deng said. Hao smiled and waved. “How is your mother? I heard she fell ill last week.”

“She’s doing well,” Pei said. “The doctor was able to bring her medicine in time.”

“Glad to hear, glad to hear,” Deng said.

“Uncle Deng, is it true that you saw the Avatar yesterday?”

“Is it true? Why, I saw him and more!” Deng laughed. “Arrows blue as the sky, from his crown to his toes.”

“He keeps funny company, if you ask me,” Hao said, taking a sip of tea and placing his next tile.

“That he does, that he does,” Uncle Deng said.

“You have to tell us!” Pei said. “We didn’t believe it when we heard.”

“Who’ve you been talking to?” Deng demanded. “That lout Yun? Never believe that old liar, he’ll sell you a skunk fox and tell you it’s a jade tabby.”

“That’s what he said about you, sir,” Haku said. “But my brother and I know better.”

“Good, good,” Deng said, considering the board.

“Tough times for honest folk,” Hao said. “Tough times.”

“Anyway, you want Avatar stories? Well, as it happens, I have quite a few,” Deng said. “Got them right from the source! He and his friends were plenty chatty last evening.”

“Plenty chatty,” Hao said. “Not the best storytellers, though. What a shame.”

“What a shame, indeed,” Deng said.

“Well, what did you hear?” Haku asked. “Please, Uncle Deng, you have to tell us!”

“Fine, fine,” Deng said, waving for the two to sit. “But I’ll only tell you once! Hao and I are quite busy, aren’t we?”

“Quite busy, that we are,” Hao said.

And so Deng told Haku and Pei all about the Avatar’s adventures fighting the Fire Nation alongside Jeong Jeong the Deserter, dealing with the wicked Fortune Teller of Makapu Village, wrestling the Unagi near Kyoshi Island, and soothing the rampaging panda spirit, Hei Bai.

“Incredible,” Haku said at the end. “Well, where is he now? I heard he left town on foot.”

“Headed north,” Deng said. “To Gaoling City. He’s looking for an earthbending teacher, so I’ve heard.”

“Shame that we missed him,” Pei said.

“Shame, indeed,” Hao said, shaking his head.

“Well, thank you, Uncle Deng, Uncle Hao!” Haku said, bowing to the two old men. “We’ll leave you to your game.”

“Whose turn was it?” Deng asked, looking back at the board.

“Mine,” Hao said.

“You liar!” Deng yelled. As they bickered, Haku and Pei left the teashop.

Thi Minh was opening her shop for the day when a courier knocked at her front door.

“Message for Aunty Minh,” the courier called.

“Yes, that’s me,” Thi Minh said, shuffling to the door. She was not young anymore, and many years of weaving and sewing had taken their toll on her hands and back. She opened the door and accepted the letter, which was a scroll tied in a plain, white ribbon. “Thank you, young man.”

“Have a good day, Aunty,” the courier said before running off for his next delivery.

Thi Minh closed the door and shuffled over to a chair, sinking slowly down onto it.

“Oh, where is that useless girl?” she grumbled, looking towards the back. “Lin! Have you finished with those skeins yet?”

“Not yet, Aunty!” Lin called from another room.

“Hurry up! We have orders to fill!” She untied the scroll while she berated her niece. As she read it, her eyebrows climbed slowly up her forehead, creased and creased again with worry lines. “Hao, you fool. You loose-lipped fool!”

She heaved herself up and shuffled to the back to find some paper and ink to pen a letter of her own. She burned Hao’s message and let the ashes scatter in the backyard. When her letter was finished, she rolled it up and tied it with another white ribbon.

“Lin! I’m going out! Open the shop!” Thi Minh shouted, donning a jacket and scarf.

“You can barely walk from your bedroom to the kitchen!” Lin said, finally showing her face. “What’s that? A letter? I can deliver it for you.”

“You? You’re so slow to finish anything, I could hire that idiot boy Liu Feng down the street and he’d do it faster.”

“What are you talking about, Aunty?” Lin said with a long-suffering sigh. “You’re losing your senses. Let me take the letter to the postmaster.”

“No, you do what I told you to do,” Thi Minh snapped, shuffling to the front door. “If I come back and the skeins aren’t done, there’ll be trouble!”

Thi Minh did not want Lin to deliver the letter because she was not going to the postmaster to deliver it. Instead, she went to a more discreet courier, a dark-skinned man with a mean-tempered ostrich horse named Brown Foot.

“Take this to An Gu, to the house of Governor Kamnan, and see that it finds its way into the hands of Han, daughter of Hom,” she said.

“Understood, Master,” the discreet courier said, taking the letter. “Peace and balance.”

“Peace and balance, yourself,” Thi Minh groused. “That idiot Hao! I’ve told him Deng was trouble, but does he listen? No. Blinded by brotherhood or drink, I’ll warrant. Foolish! So foolish! The Red faction have always been troublemakers. Always!”

Muttering, she shuffled back to her shop. The discreet courier mounted his ostrich horse. With a kick of the spurs, he rode away, letter safely tucked away in his saddlebag.

It was nearly sunset when the discreet courier arrived at the side entrance of Governor Kamnan’s house. He dismounted Brown Foot and tied her to the outside post before speaking with the gate guard to be allowed inside. The governor’s house was on high alert, with news of bandit activity in the hills towards the desert. Caravans attempting the crossing towards the Misty Palms Oasis or Gaoshi City had been raided by sandbenders and army deserters.

“Oh, Phong, what a surprise!” Lady Han’s lady-in-waiting exclaimed at the courier’s arrival, rushing out to greet him. “What brings you here?”

“A message for Lady Han,” Phong said. “She is to receive it in person.”

“Very well,” the lady-in-waiting said. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “And then, won’t you stay for the night? The roads are dangerous of late.”

“I would very much like that,” Phong said, smiling at her.

Lady Han was in the latter half of her middle years, but took great care to appear as if that was not the case. Even without any apparent guests to entertain, she received Phong in the kind of garments and makeup one might reserve for a visiting dignitary. Around her waist was a light green sash embroidered with white lotuses.

“A message from Master Thi Minh, Lady Han,” Phong said, bowing and presenting the scroll.

“Thank you, Phong,” Lady Han said, taking the scroll delicately with one hand. “You may go.”

Phong bowed and took his leave to enjoy an evening with the lady-in-waiting. Lady Han unsealed the scroll and read it twice. She frowned.

“Deng, what have you done?” She said quietly to herself before retreating to her chambers. Unlike Thi Minh, she required time to compose her own letter, which she placed inside a book of poems. The work was completed by noon the next day, and she summoned her lady-in-waiting to her.

“I’ve finally completed my latest book of poems,” she said. “I wish to have Lord Xu’s opinion. Please have this copied and sent to Ba Sing Se with the next caravan.”

“Yes, Lady Han,” the lady-in-waiting bowed. She took the book over to a printer and had three copies made. They were bound in leather, packed in separate crates, and shipped out towards Gaoshi City. From there, they could be taken to Chameleon Bay, and onwards to Ba Sing Se.

The morning of the 7th Day of the 3rd Month was foggy to the point of occasional light rain in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se, which kept most people indoors. Lord Xu was no exception, enjoying a late breakfast in the Sunrise Hall of his estate. An aging man in his sixties, Lord Xu walked with the limp of a former soldier injured in battle, an affectation he exaggerated or dispensed with depending on how tolerable the company was. He was joined by Madame Macmu-Ling, whose girls’ society he helped finance, and Lord Qiu, an old, intolerable friend. All three of them had been out late attending parties, and were quite hungover.

“I am compelled, sir,” Madame Macmu-Ling said to him as he sipped his tea. “To expound in great detail: this meal is wondrous.”

“Madame, please,” Lord Qiu said with an exasperated snort. “You can dispense with the poetry here.”

“My art cannot wait,” Madame Macmu-Ling retorted. “Any audience will do. Even one of fools.”

“Ha! What do you say to that, Lord Qiu?” Lord Xu chuckled.

“I will not be dragged into her games,” he sniffed. “My head is killing me.”

“Then perhaps next time,” Madame Macmu-Ling said. “Refrain from the moon peach wine. Temperance in all!”

“She has you there,” Lord Xu said.

“If she wants to think herself superior for being able to count, then by all means,” Lord Qiu said. “She can have me.”

There was a gentle knock on the door, and a servant entered carrying a book on a silk pillow. This was presented to Lord Xu, who picked it up with great interest.

“My, my!” he exclaimed. “Lady Han has finished another collection of poems.”

“Oh, has she indeed?” Lord Qiu said. “Wonderful. More drivel to satiate the hyena-geese in Macmu-Ling’s club.”

“Drivel? How vulgar,” Madame Macmu-Ling sniffed. “Lady Han’s verse is always… appreciated.”

“That was a stretch,” Lord Qiu muttered.

Lord Xu was paging idly through the book, ignoring his friends. He paused on a particular page, noting the wear of the corner and the slight smudge of finger oil. His lips pursed, he laboriously got to his feet.

“My friends, I’m afraid I am feeling unwell,” he said. “I shall not turn you out, but I must beg your pardon for abandoning you at this time.”

“Do not be troubled,” Madame Macmu-Ling said, smiling graciously at him. “I, too, am quite engaged. Society work.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then I’ll be making a nuisance of myself in the Emerald House,” Lord Qiu said. “Lord Xu, I’ll hope to see you at the Rat & Horse for dinner. Madame.”

“Lord.”

Lord Xu bowed and the others made their own departures in short order. Then, he retreated to his private chambers, which were in the center of the estate complex. His servants stoked the fire and brought him wine and trays of warm snacks while he retrieved a codex from his office. Sitting down by the fire, it took the work of an hour to decode Lady Han’s message.

“The rumors are true,” he said. “The Avatar has indeed returned, and he is in the Earth Kingdom at last. Preparations will have to be made…”

He touched the smudge, stroking his beard.

“Too clean for the public censor,” he mused.

He closed the book and set it aside, returning the codex to his private study. Later, Lady Han’s book of poems would find its way into Madame Macmu-Ling’s care, along with a donation of other poetry tomes for the benefit of her Society and its young charges. A servant sent a note to Lord Qiu apologizing for being unable to join him at the Rat & Horse later. A second servant went to the Knotweed House, a well-known pai sho parlor in the Upper Ring, to make a reservation. Both servants were observed from the rooftops by a figure in long green robes and a wide-brimmed hat, tilted down to obscure the top half of his face. Instead of gloves, his hands were covered in hardened earth. The figure gave the slightest of nods to two similarly-attired figures sprawled on the rooftop behind him. One followed the servant en route to Lord Qiu. The other followed the second servant towards the Knotweed House.

“Grand Secretariat.”

Long Feng sat at his desk in a darkened room, poring over a stack of scrolls. He did not need to look up to notice the entrance of his Dai Li agent, nor did he need to divert his attention from the task at hand to respond.

“Speak.”

“Lady Han’s message was delivered to Lord Xu,” the Dai Li agent said. “He has canceled a meeting with Lord Qiu and reserved a table at the Knotweed House tonight.”

“I see,” Long Feng said, lifting his eyes from the scroll at last. He steepled his fingers and thought for a moment. “Lord Xu is not an immediate threat. Have him observed for now, and prepare a report on his movements for the next three days.”

“Yes, Grand Secretariat.”

“You are dismissed.”

The agent left as silently as he had come. Long Feng closed his eyes and considered the problem: the Avatar had returned, and the White Lotus was keeping an eye on his movements. Secret societies were not anything outside the scope of his ability to handle; Ba Sing Se was lousy with them. In fact, there were more secret societies than there were not-secret ones, and he had files on all of them. Suffice to say, while the White Lotus’s involvement was of concern, they weren’t of special concern.

The Avatar, however, was.

Avatars were always dangerous unknowns. Long Feng was well-read on history, and understood in detail how a determined Avatar could upend the status quo. Avatar Aang’s arrival in the city would have to be planned for, and he would need to be carefully managed.

Because, of course, Avatars always ended up in Ba Sing Se one way or the other. As the earth sat at the center of the heavens, the Earth Kingdom sat at the center of the earth. In the middle of the Earth Kingdom was Ba Sing Se. The Kingdom couldn’t help but turn about the city, just as the sun, the moon, and the stars could not help but orbit the earth. Simple force of nature would draw the Avatar here to seek an audience with the Earth King. For as the city was the center of the kingdom, so was the Earth King the center of the city, and the kingdom, and the whole universe. And the Earth King was little more than Long Feng’s puppet. All the better if the Avatar could be made the same.

Long Feng called for his personal secretary to bring him every report they had on Avatar Aang. Long Feng was not a hunter—he found the sport distasteful—but a certain maxim among hunters held true, in his experience: the beast must be known before it can be slain.

Another whisper flew from Pang Da Port that day, carried by Pei.

He stood together with Haku on the docks that afternoon, bags packed and ready for travel. Haku clasped his shoulder, and a meaningful look passed between them.

“Safe travels, brother,” Haku said. “Give my best to our father when you arrive at his house.”

“Safe travels for you, as well,” Pei said. “May you avoid bandits on the road, and find the fortune you seek. And send some home when you find it! Don’t be greedy.”

“This brother of mine,” Haku said, shaking his head. “Keep your own advice!”

Pei turned on his heel and walked up the pier to a merchant ship that had agreed to give him passage. He waved to Haku before he boarded, and then turned his back on Pang Da Port. The captain of the ship approached him as he was securing his things in the hold.

“So, you’re sure about this?” the captain asked. “Whale Watch Island’s an empty spit of rock, of interest only to smugglers and Fire Nation patrol boats.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Pei said. “I’ll be fine. The Fifth Nation sees to its own.”

“Suit yourself,” the captain said, shifting his weight nervously. “But I’m not risking my ship and my cargo. If it’s too dangerous for us, we’re passing it by.”

“In that case, then I would ask the use of your dinghy to reach it myself.”

“Well…”

“I pay to replace it,” Pei said, holding up a gold coin.

“We’ll see,” the captain said, leaving him to rest.

“It would be wise to help me, captain,” Pei said. “You wouldn’t want to irritate my brothers and sisters.”

“Right, right,” the captain said. “We’ll get you there in one piece, mark my words. I know the value of keeping your kind in an agreeable mood. Is there anything you need while we travel?”

“Some peace and quiet, I think,” Pei said. “To the best of your ability.”

“I’ll see to it you’re not disturbed,” the captain said, and left him in peace.

Whale Watch Island was shrouded in mist when they reached it three days later.

“Don’t like this fog,” the captain said. “Makes it hard to see the shoals.”

“Captain,” Pei said, tossing a few more coins in his hand. “About that dinghy.”

Pei rowed the dinghy towards the island as the merchant ship sailed away. An hour or so later, he pulled it up on a rocky beach on the island’s eastern shore. He made sure to drag it above the high tide line and then began the slow ascent up the mountain that made up the bulk of the island.

At the top of a ridge, he found the lighthouse. It was no more than a stack of rocks with a fireplace on top, but it was perfect for Pei’s needs. He took some coal out of a satchel inside his bag and put it in the fireplace. Then, he blasted the coal with fire until it ignited.

He was combing the beach for driftwood he could use to keep the fire going—his supply of coal was limited—when the Southern Fleet frigate materialized through the fog, a ghostly shape of iron and smoke. Pei sent up a fireball to signal his position, and waited for them to deploy a skiff.

“I am Captain Hirota of the Shishisamekiba ,” the frigate’s captain said by way of introduction when Pei was brought to the bridge. “Who are you, and why did you light the beacon?”

“I am Pei,” Pei said, bowing. “Seeking passage to Whaletail Island.”

He handed a scroll to Captain Hirota to read. Captain Hirota clicked his tongue in annoyance, but returned the scroll with a perfunctory bow.

“Helmsman, set course for Whaletail Island,” he ordered.

“But sir! Our orders are to return to Qing Gang and—” the Helmsman protested.

“I am aware,” Captain Hirota said, eyes boring into Pei. “But our orders have changed. Make for Whaletail Island.”

“Yes, Captain,” the Helmsman said, spinning the wheel.

Pei bowed.

“Thank you, Captain,” he said. “Your swift cooperation will not go unnoticed.”

Captain Hirota snorted.

“I’ll have Ensign Tooru make up your room,” he said. “I’d be honored if you would join me for dinner later.”

“Happily, Captain,” Pei said with another bow. “In the meantime, is there a place I might take my ease?”

“The officer’s mess is at your disposal.”

Within the week, the Shishisamekiba arrived at Whaletail Island, a gray, rocky island covered in scrubland where mighty forests had stood in years past. They dropped anchor at Shachi-minato, the biggest port on the island and the home base of the Southern Raiders. Only two of their ships were docked as Pei disembarked and made for the Raiders’ citadel. Built in the early years of Fire Lord Azulon’s reign, the citadel was a foreboding stone and metal castle surrounded by a single curtain wall dotted with artillery emplacements. A narrow, winding path ran up to the main gate. Sea birds roosted on the cliffs, in the scree, and in the eaves of the watchtowers.

Pei’s scroll got him through the gate and into the citadel, whereupon he sought out the seneschal. The seneschal was a slight man of middling years. He had blue eyes betraying a mixed heritage, and he spoke in the local accent.

“Please, sit,” he said to Pei when they were alone in his chambers. “The nightingale sings to the new moon.”

“A sorrowful tune for an unseeing listener,” Pei replied.

“You’ve come a long way from your post,” the seneschal said, demeanor shifting. He sat up straighter and looked Pei in the eye with a cold, icy glare.

“The Avatar passed through Pang Da Port ten days ago,” Pei said. “I spoke with several witnesses to the event. He is traveling with two Water Tribe children and an older bodyguard. They stayed at an inn by the docks, visited the bathhouse, and left north towards Gaoling City after breakfast the next day.”

“Did he happen to say why?”

“One of his companions took a poster for Master Yu’s Earthbending Academy,” Pei said. “It’s conjecture, but they may be seeking an earthbending teacher.”

“After being driven away from New Ozai, he has found another route into the Earth Kingdom,” the seneschal said, stroking his chin. His eyes glinted. “I shall need you to make a full report of everything you have seen and heard on this matter tonight. Then, you must return to Pang Da Port.”

“I had hoped to deliver the report to Capital City in person,” Pei said. “It’s been many months since I was able to return.”

“Your report is not going to Capital City,” the seneschal replied. Pei’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “As this is a matter of utmost importance to the security of the Fire Nation, it has attracted royal notice. All information regarding the Avatar is to be sent to Princess Azula in New Ozai.”

“Oh,” Pei said, looking down ashamedly. If he had gone to New Ozai instead of Whaletail Island, then the report would be in the princess’s hands. Instead, it would take another week, if the weather was good. “I see.”

“You are forgiven for the error,” the seneschal said. “The orders only arrived here yesterday. I will depart for New Ozai tomorrow and explain the circumstances. The princess is reasonable. You may be recalled to the Capital with honor soon enough.”

“Agni willing,” Pei said, and then began his report. The seneschal took careful notes.

It was the evening of Kisaragi 21 when Princess Azula got her hands on that report. She was sitting in her small audience chamber in the governor’s palace of New Ozai—formerly Omashu—with her advisors, Li and Lo, and her two friends and acting retainers, Mai and Ty Lee. 

Mai was the daughter of New Ozai’s governor, Ukano, one of the Fire Lord’s staunchest supporters. She was dour, cynical, and misanthropic, but she had a talent for reading people, was well-connected, and possessed unparalleled skill with knives. Azula was sure that Mai was her lesser in a fight, but she was equally sure that Mai could put even elite soldiers to shame if she deigned to try. 

Ty Lee, by contrast, was bubbly and excitable, barely able to sit still for more than thirty seconds when left to her own devices. She was an acrobat, a circus performer, and a contortionist, which made her an ideal infiltrator and gave her deep knowledge of pressure points and chi flow. Azula suspected, but had no desire to test, that in a fight Ty Lee might just be able to best her. Perhaps.

“That little half water rat,” Mai said as Azula read the report. “He was expecting a promotion for handing you a piece of paper he could just as easily have tied to a messenger hawk.”

“Hm,” Ty Lee said. “On the one hand, maybe he just wanted to make sure it didn’t get lost! But on the other hand, it does seem kind of desperate…”

“He is a minor administrator in a backwater province,” Li said.

“His position within the Ministry of Secrets is his only value to us,” Lo said.

“Well, ambition and initiative should be rewarded,” Azula said. “Recommend him to Minister Kei for something.”

She scanned the report again and set it aside, folding her hands in her lap.

“We have a problem,” she said. “The Avatar has gone to the Earth Kingdom to study earthbending. He has been there for more than two weeks, and is likely gathering allies. Failure to find and capture him is not an option.”

“Ugh. It had to be the Earth Kingdom, didn’t it?” Mai scoffed.

“Does this mean we’ll get to go camping?” Ty Lee asked.

“I’d rather kill myself,” Mai said.

“This information is old,” Li said. “Its utility is questionable. New Ozai is not well-situated to coordinate this pursuit.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Azula asked.

“Admiral Kondo still holds Genhou,” Lo said. “The Eastern Fleet makes regular patrols of the Eastern Sea.”

“Then we will take the royal sloop to Genhou,” Azula said. “We must make every effort to head off the Avatar.”

“My father is friends with Admiral Kondo’s nephew, Vice Admiral Hinata Kondo,” Mai said with a bored sigh.

“Perhaps he would be willing to provide us with some information on who Admiral Kondo surrounds himself with,” Azula said.

“Fine. I’ll ask,” Mai said.

“Whoopee!” Ty Lee cheered. “I’ve always wanted to travel to the Eastern Sea. I’ve heard they have beautiful sea nymphs and ocean fairies that dance in the waves.”

“Those are children’s stories,” Mai said. “You’re more likely to run into gruff, unshaven pirates.”

“Well, that’d still be pretty exciting,” Ty Lee said. “Do you think we’ll get to meet a real Fifth Nation pirate queen?”

“I don’t think so, Ty Lee,” Azula said.

“Aw, monkey feathers,” Ty Lee said.

“If we do meet any pirates, they’d better surrender immediately and pray for mercy,” Azula went on. “Their only use to us is as informants or mercenaries. Otherwise, we will send them to the bottom of the sea without exception.”

There was silence in the small audience chamber. Perhaps Azula had allowed too much emotion to slip through.

“You know, it’s kind of funny,” Ty Lee said. “Zuko spent so much time looking for the Avatar that when he found him, he joined up with him.”

“Believe me, I do not share my brother’s weakness or sentimentality,” Azula said.

“Good,” Mai said darkly. “Then you also won’t share his fate.”

Azula frowned. Ty Lee’s eyes widened, and she glanced between Mai and Azula several times. Li and Lo also exchanged looks. Then Azula smoothed her face back to her usual smug aloofness.

“Ready yourselves,” she said. “We depart tomorrow. Li, Lo, you may return home. I’m afraid the journey to the Eastern Sea will be too difficult for you. I thank you for your years of counsel.”

“We are honored to have been of service,” Li and Lo said in unison.

When the others had gone—and Ty Lee had the nerve to look at her with sympathy as she left—Azula unclenched her fist. Mai’s ability to read people was a valuable asset, but it also came with a related ability: she knew exactly what to say to get under Azula’s skin. But it wasn’t her fault what happened to Zuko! He had been stupid. That was all.

But perhaps, when she and the Avatar properly met, she would take more than a little satisfaction in defeating him and dragging him back to the Capital clapped in irons. Yes. Her brother had learned obedience, but it was her Uncle and the Avatar that had caused him to turn his back on his family. Uncle had been dealt with. 

Soon it would be the Avatar’s turn.

Chapter Text

Houka 7, Mutsuki 13, Amamizu; 7th Year of the Era of Imperial Flame, 13th Day of the Month of Harmony, Rain Begins

The Justice Minister, at 42, was the youngest member of the Fire Lord’s cabinet. His seat in the Hall of Scales was before a screen which bore the image of Fire Lord Sozin, wreathed in gold and flame. In the image’s left hand was the ever-burning lamp, and in its right hand was the two-edged sword: wisdom and enlightenment paired with power and swift punishment.

Two senior magistrates flanked the Justice Minister, all layered in their red robes of office. Scribes recorded everything that occurred in the Hall, from the loudest proclamation from the bench to the faintest whisper in the gallery. The gallery was presently full: dozens of nobles, generals, ranking bureaucrats, wealthy gentlemen, and their retinues crowded into the Hall for the day’s proceedings. The docket had been cleared for this one event, the like of which had not happened in generations: the trial of a prince.

Prince Zuko knelt in the center of the Hall of Scales on bare stone tiles. He was dressed in plain, gray clothing. His hands and feet were clasped in iron—earlier, the gallery had been treated to the spectacle of the prince shuffling his way forward under guard to the appointed place. With his head bowed low, he waited for the Justice Minister to begin.

A bell rang three times outside the hall, echoing in the stuffy, hot space.

“This court is now in session,” the Justice Minister began. “We are gathered here in the Hall of Scales, our most sacred and solemn place of justice, to settle, before the eyes of the royal court, under Agni’s wise and watchful gaze, a strange and disturbing matter. We beg that the spirits grant us their wisdom, that we may discover, once and for all, the truth, and pass a fitting judgment. The charges will now be read.”

A scribe unfurled a scroll.

“Prince Zuko, first son of Fire Lord Ozai, long may he reign,” the scribe read out. “Has conspired with the enemies of the Fire Nation against his Noble and Generous Father; he has violated the fundamental principles of duty, honor, and filial piety; he has caused grievous harm to be inflicted upon the nation through his words and his actions; he has corrupted the upright and moral character of members of the Navy; he has, by his own volition, fallen into depravity and enticed others to do so.”

There was a brief pause as murmurs and whispers from the gallery filled the hall. The scribe continued, but the rest of the charges hardly mattered or incited such a response. The Justice Minister observed all of this with the aloof air of the impartial, awaiting all the evidence and coming to a proper conclusion.

Of course, this was all theater. Agni willing, Prince Zuko would play his part.

An hour earlier…

“You will do nothing, and say nothing. You will show the face of a remorseful and contrite prince. When the Justice Minister asks if you have anything you wish to say in your own defense, you will remember what we rehearsed. Do all of this, and you will be spared, along with your crew,” Azula said.

They were in an annex. Zuko was in chains on the floor, in much the same pose he would hold when it was time for the trial. She stood over him with her arms folded. It had taken no small amount of effort to orchestrate this event. The least he could do was show a little acknowledgement. He would not meet her gaze, but he did at last nod.

“Good. You understand, then,” she said, and turned to go. She paused before the door. “You should know, I am not enjoying this. You can believe me or not, but I do wish that you had returned home under better circumstances.”

He scoffed, a flicker of his old fire revealing itself at last. When he said no more, she shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” she said, and prepared to wash her hands of him.

“If our situations were reversed,” he said, just as she put her hand on the door handle. She stopped, and turned once again to look back at him. He met her gaze, gold boring into gold. But he was tired. Resigned. Pitying, even. He had never looked so much like their mother. “I would have done the same to you.”

“You are our Father’s son,” she said, the satisfaction of knowledge—of power over a known quantity—soothing her irritation.

“I haven’t been his son since I was thirteen,” Zuko said.

“Of course you have,” Azula said. “Why would he go to all this trouble for you otherwise?”

“I wonder that myself,” Zuko said quietly. “But at least after today we can all stop pretending.”

He shrugged, a vulgar, half-hearted gesture, and fell silent. Azula examined him once again, eyes narrowed critically. She accepted that there were certain idiosyncrasies that her brother had picked up in his time away, but she thought that she knew who he was at heart. After all, everything up until this very moment had been done with him in mind.

And yet, she couldn’t help but feel troubled. A nagging doubt. An imperfection. Something out of her control.

“Indeed,” was all she replied with before showing herself out. The doubts didn’t matter, only the result. She would erase them without remorse.

***

The case against Prince Zuko was as ironclad as the many dozens of ships he had sent to the bottom of the sea. Evidence was presented before the court by various scribes and solicitors—testimonies, written and conveyed with all haste to the Capital, from the many officers and soldiers wronged; reports, requisitioned from as far as Whaletail Island, describing acts of piracy, barratry, and mutiny; lists, gathered from Army and Navy registers, of the honored dead, lost at sea or killed in battle. Two dozen men from the Tamushiba had never been found, among them Captain Nobu.

Perhaps the most shocking was the anonymous report from a member of Zuko’s own crew, explicating numerous trysts and affairs with no fewer than three men. The gallery had to be silenced, so vocal was their curiosity and outrage. A prince? Consorting with men? And two of them from an enemy state? It was beyond belief. 

With each new piece of evidence, the Justice Minister carefully studied Prince Zuko’s face. He was famously short-tempered, and the Justice Minister had seen the secret report that contained the only copy of the Prince’s own account: that he had been betrayed by a commanding officer of the Fire Navy, and his actions were in self-defense, to expose the conspiracy and punish the perpetrators. How convenient it was that the accused was already dead.

Of the Prince’s collaboration with the Avatar, no defense was made. None would have been acceptable to give.

Still, the Justice Minister had expected the Prince to break character—to yell, to scream, to roar, to plead his innocence. He did not. He sat, for hours, barely acknowledging the room at large, except to shake his head whenever asked if he had any clarifying remarks to add to a given testimony. The Justice Minister didn’t like it; however, he had his part to play, and it was not worth provoking the Fire Lord’s wrath by deviating from the script.

“Prince Zuko,” he said. The Prince glanced upward for a moment, and then returned to staring at the floor. “This court has heard a mountain of evidence, detailing crimes of a frankly heinous and shocking nature. You have demonstrated admirable stoicism in the face of it all; however, the court must now compel you to speak. If you have any shred of remorse for your crimes, or any contrition to offer, the court will hear it now.”

Prince Zuko lifted his head and stared at each member of the court in turn. Then he opened his mouth to comply with the Justice Minister’s command.

Two days earlier…

The Powerful dropped anchor in the Capital Harbor District. The news had gone ahead already: Princess Azula returned bearing prisoners. Crowds of curious onlookers gathered on the embankments and along the Avenue of the Sun. Servants would bear the princess on a palanquin up through the Royal Plaza and into the Caldera, followed by her retinue and, at last, the prisoners. Through some happenstance—and Zuko was quite sure it was by Azula’s design and not a mistake—he and his Uncle were brought out onto the top deck of the ship together. They were already chained up and ready to be paraded through the city.

There were gasps and cries as they were recognized from the shore. Zuko didn’t care. He had to speak with his Uncle urgently, and no number of witnesses, no amount of public outrage, could delay him.

“Uncle, I have to warn you,” he said. “Azula said—”

“I am quite sure I know what your sister said,” Uncle said, not looking at him. “She may take after my brother, but she has always been surprisingly sentimental. Just like your mother.”

“How can you compare her to mother?” Zuko demanded. “Do you know what she wants me to do?”

“Of course,” Uncle said. “And for your sake, Nephew, you must do as she says.”

Zuko was floored. He staggered, nearly tripping over his chains.

“How can you say that?” he demanded, blinking back furious tears. And then, when his Uncle gave no response. “Why won’t you fight this?”

“Because I missed my chance to do so,” Uncle said, sadly. “If I had not been blinded by grief from losing my first son, I would have fought my brother tooth and claw to save this family. I did not. And because of that, you are paying for my mistakes.”

“I won’t do it,” Zuko swore. “I won’t.”

“You must,” Uncle said.

At that moment, they were pulled apart by members of the royal guard. Zuko was led through the streets ahead of his Uncle, seeing the jeering, taunting faces of the people. Anger burned bright in his belly, but so did shame. Most of all, he was paralyzed by disbelief. These were his people. He had done his best to be a prince they could be proud of. And yet, none of that mattered. He barely recalled how he made it up the switchbacked road into Caldera City, only that once he beheld the sight of its red and golden rooftops, and the royal palace at the center, he was struck by fear. What would his Father have to say to him?

He needn’t have worried. His Father never gave him an audience.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Azula said when he asked about it later. He was being held in an out-building of the palace under heavy guard. “Our Father is busy cleaning up your mess. I’ve been entrusted with arranging your trial. I would expect, given the evidence we’ve collected of your activities the last three years, that a guilty verdict will be reached quickly. You will face the executioner’s blade, and all of your co-conspirators will be put to death. Oh, don’t fret: yours will be quite painless, I’m assured. I can’t say the same for your crew…unless you’ve reconsidered my offer.”

Zuko couldn’t. It was impossible. It was unthinkable. It would be a betrayal of everyone who had served under him.

But…

But he didn’t want them to die. And he didn’t want them to be known only as traitors to the Fire Nation. That kind of stain would tarnish not only their legacy, but their families as well. Azula’s offer was in many ways a worse kind of betrayal. So it was with great effort, and great pain, that he forced himself to say:

“Fine. You win. I’ll do it.”

“Excellent,” Azula said, smiling.

“Give me your word,” he said. “Give me your word that you’ll hold to your end of the bargain.”

“Oh, Zu-zu, whatever did I do to make you so mistrustful of me?” Azula said, a false pout on her face.

“Swear it!” Zuko barked.

“There’s no need to be so dramatic,” she chided. “Very well: I swear, on my honor and our Father’s name, to stay true to the agreement, or may Agni strike me down.”

And that was that.

***

“I have something to say,” Prince Zuko said. There were murmurs from the gallery. The Justice Minister’s mustache twitched.

“The court has given you leave to speak,” he said.

“Forgive me,” Prince Zuko said. “I don’t know where exactly to begin.”

“The court would suggest you begin with a sincere expression of remorse,” the Justice Minister said. There was a flash of annoyance on Prince Zuko’s face. The Justice Minister began to sweat under his robes.

“I was misled,” Prince Zuko said. The gallery gasped. “When I was banished three years ago, I was tasked with tracking down and finding the Avatar. Only then could I restore my honor. In that time, however, my mind was poisoned against the Fire Nation and my Father…by my Uncle.”

Gasps again. The Justice Minister’s disquiet settled; this was on-script.

“Under the guise of providing me with guidance, he deceived me,” Prince Zuko said. “He convinced me that I had enemies in the Fire Navy, and persuaded me that my Father’s enduring love and affection for his wayward son was not genuine. In that state of mind, I acted in a manner unbecoming a prince of the greatest nation in the world. I must therefore take responsibility for my actions and throw myself at the mercy of this court. Had I been wiser, I would have seen through my Uncle’s lies, and many brave and honorable men would still be alive.”

“Do you accuse your Uncle of treason against the crown?” the Justice Minister asked.

“I do,” Prince Zuko replied.

“Do you disavow him before this court?” 

“I do.”

“Do you recant your allegiance to the Avatar and his cause?”

“I do.”

The senior magistrate to the Justice Minister’s right leaned forward in his seat. This was not part of the script, but the man was a reliable magistrate. His questioning, while unexpected, could be counted upon to deliver the spirit of the play, if not the letter.

“And what of the accusations of your indecency?” he inquired. “Do you lay the blame for those at your Uncle’s feet as well?”

Prince Zuko’s nostrils flared, but he plowed ahead.

“While my Uncle was a general of the Fire Army, certain shameful practices had been allowed,” he said. “Among the many lies he told me was that it was not wrong for two men to engage in carnal acts together. It is my fault for allowing myself to be deceived and rejecting my Father’s wisdom, and the decree he himself made forbidding homosexual acts.”

“Are any of the men with whom you engaged in carnal vice currently in the custody of the Fire Nation?” the senior magistrate asked.

“I am not aware if they are,” Prince Zuko said.

“I read in the report from the Ministry of Secrets that several members of your crew publicly and with your knowledge engaged in carnal vice. Do you deny this?”

“I do not deny it.”

“What would you say to this court about them?” the senior magistrate asked. “How should we punish them for their criminality?”

The Justice Minister allowed himself a small smirk. The question was a well-formulated trap: there were few answers that would not further incriminate the prince in some way.

“I would not presume to usurp the authority or wisdom of this court,” Prince Zuko said. “But, were I still their commander, I would have them flogged, stripped of their ranks, and dishonorably discharged from my service.”

This was not entirely the correct answer, but the Justice Minister saw no benefit in allowing the tangent to continue. He took charge once again with a staying gesture towards the senior magistrate.

“The court is pleased with your contrition,” he said. “We shall now deliberate for a short while and return with our full judgment.”

The Justice Minister and the senior magistrates stood. A bell rang throughout the hall, and the galleries cleared. Two guards came to escort Prince Zuko away to the annex where he would be allowed some water and a little food. There was no real need for any of this—the outcome had already been decided—but if true justice was not to be done, then the appearance of justice had to be maintained.

Five days earlier…

Princess Azula sat primly on the raised dais in her small audience chamber aboard the Powerful , the one used for personal meetings. Zuko was dragged inside and thrown on the ground before her. She raised an eyebrow archly at the two sailors, who bowed and quickly retreated. She clicked her tongue.

“There was hardly any need for that,” she said. “As if you were any threat to me .”

Zuko groaned and got up. He was not tied or bound, nor was he in his royal armor. He had been given clean, red clothing to wear. He glared at her. His face was leaner, and his shoulders broader, than when she had last seen him.

“They’re your men,” he snapped. “Perhaps you haven’t disciplined them properly.”

“Hmph,” Azula said. “I hardly think you’re in any position to lecture anyone on the matter of discipline.”

“What do you want from me?” Zuko demanded.

“Oh, Zu-zu, I just want to talk,” Azula said.

“Liar!” Zuko yelled, leaping to his feet, fists wreathed in flame.

“You can put those away,” Azula said with an impatient wave. “Even if you wanted a rematch, the outcome would be the same. Why not save us both the trouble? Besides, you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

Zuko bared his teeth and snorted smoke, but extinguished his fists. He sat down with his legs and arms crossed.

“Well?” 

“That’s my question,” Azula said, picking up a copy of the dossier that she had made herself. The original was sealed away in her personal safe, and this one would be destroyed after this meeting. “Do you realize the extent of the trouble you’re in?”

“I had an inkling, yes,” Zuko said.

“Here,” she said, handing him the dossier. He took it, keeping her face and hands within his range of view, and began to flip through its pages. His eyes widened.

“How—?” he began, but then stopped himself. “Of course. She saw everything.”

“It’s one thing to be indecent, dear brother,” Azula said. “It’s quite another to get caught.”

Zuko’s shoulders slumped in defeat. His head hung low in shame. He closed the dossier and set it aside, as though he didn’t need to read the rest of it to know how truly found out he had been.

“So what now?” he said, dully. “I’m a traitor. You know everything. You’d have every right to have me executed.”

“Right on nearly all counts,” Azula said. “But one thing at a time. Would you like some tea?”

This so wrong-footed him that he didn’t respond at first. He nodded carefully, and Azula rang a bell. Her lady-in-waiting appeared with a tea tray, and served them both cups of warm, jasmine tea. Zuko looked at his dubiously.

“You hate jasmine tea,” he said.

“A lot has changed since you’ve been away,” Azula said simply, taking a sip and forcing herself to swallow the lukewarm, tasteless liquid. Seeing her do so, Zuko gulped half the cup. It was a boorish, indelicate gesture. He’d spent too much time around commoners.

“Did Father send you to capture me?” Zuko asked.

“He did,” Azula said. “He couldn’t very well turn a blind eye after what happened to Grand Admiral Zhao. But even if he hadn’t, I’d still have come.”

“Don’t pretend to be worried about me,” Zuko snapped.

“Believe what you want,” Azula said, picking up the dossier again. “I’m not the one who’s facing execution for treason.”

Zuko looked at her, then at the dossier. He took another sip of tea.

“So? Are you just here to gloat?” Zuko demanded. “Poor Zu-zu, finally screwed up badly enough that Father’s going to kill him at last. Just like when Grandfather died.”

“Except that this time, Father really is going to kill you,” Azula said. “And Mother’s not around to save you.”

“What do you mean?” Zuko asked, brow furrowed.

“I mean, that whether you live or die upon our return to the Capital,” Azula said, carefully sidestepping Zuko’s real question. “Depends on me.”

“Forget it,” Zuko said. “I’d rather Father kill me.”

“Even if it could save your crew?” Azula asked, feigning innocence. Zuko’s eyes widened, and she knew her information was correct. “Sentiment has always been your weakness. Here’s my offer: if you agree to my plan, you and your crew will be spared the executioner’s blade.”

“What would I have to do?” he asked.

“It’s simple,” she said, putting the dossier down indicatively. She drummed her fingers on its outer cover as she spoke. “I can’t make this go away. You’ve caused too much damage. But I can mitigate your sentence—instead of death, you’ll be banished, but this time instead of a ship you’ll be put on one of the western islands. We haven’t used them for that purpose in ages, but you like relics of the past, so I thought it would be fitting.”

“And my crew?”

“They will share your fate, although I wouldn’t expect them to join you in the western islands,” Azula said. “‘The Fire Lord regrets that so much blood has been spilled in this affair, and shall extend what mercy he may to prevent further bloodshed.’ You see? There is one way out of this where everyone lives.”

“And how could you get my sentence lightened?” Zuko demanded. “How does this benefit you at all?”

“Does everything need to be about personal gain?” Azula asked. “If you agree to disavow Uncle and blame him for your fall from grace, you—”

“No! I won’t do that!” Zuko shouted, jumping once again to his feet. “Uncle has been more like a father to me than Father. I won’t betray him!”

“Then you and your crew will die,” Azula said. “It’s your choice. What happens to them comes down to you.”

There was silence in the audience room, except for the everpresent ambience of the ship, her engines, the pounding of feet on the deck below. Zuko struggled to control his breath while Azula finished her tea and poured herself a second cup.

“I want to see him,” Zuko said. “I want to speak with Uncle first.”

“No,” Azula said. “You will not be allowed to see him, and you will not ask to see him again, if you value your own life and the lives of your crew.”

“Give me some time,” Zuko said. “Please.”

“Of course,” Azula said, affecting amiability. “You have a few days to consider it before we arrive home. Although, the sooner you decide, the sooner we can have done with it. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll even come visit your island when I’m Fire Lord, and if you’re very, very good, I might even see my way to pardoning you.”

“Of course that’s what this is about,” Zuko spat. “You’re getting me out of the way once and for all.”

“Oh, don’t be so full of yourself,” Azula said, snapping her fingers. The two sailors reappeared and grabbed Zuko by the arms. “As if Father ever seriously considered putting you on the throne. See you later, Zu-zu.”

The sailors dragged him out. Once he was gone, she finished the second cup of tea and summoned her lady-in-waiting.

“This tea is atrocious,” she said. 

“I apologize, milady,” the lady-in-waiting said, bowing low. “I will fetch a new pot at once.”

“No need,” she said, standing up. “I’d rather choke on my own vomit.”

“I’m terribly, terribly sorry, milady,” the trembling girl said, bowing lower.

“Get out of my sight,” Azula said. “And have the deck prepared for my training.”

With more bowing and scraping, the lady-in-waiting scuttled off. Azula relaxed a little where she sat. Zuko would come around. In the meantime, she doubled the guard on the brig and ordered a rotation of reliable sailors to keep watch on him at all times. It wouldn’t do for him to try an escape.

***

The court reconvened. The senior magistrates had gone along with the recommendations of the Ministry of Justice, the memorandum from the Ministry of Secrets, and the two sealed orders from the Royal Palace: one from the Princess Azula, and one from the Fire Lord himself. There was little else they could realistically do, even if they wanted to change the outcome. Of course, none of them did.

There was a pleasing buzz in the air as the Justice Minister unfurled the scroll on which was recorded Prince Zuko’s sentence. The buzz ended, leaving behind only the most profound silence. One could almost hear the sweat drop from the fingers of nervous or excited courtiers onto the tiled floor.

“In the matter of Prince Zuko, his treasonous acts, his flagrant violations of honor, filial piety, decency, and good grace, and the grievous harm he has inflicted upon the Fire Nation, this court has reached its verdict,” the Justice Minister read. “The accused has not contested his guilt, nor the facts presented before us. He has thrown himself fully at the court’s mercy, pleading only the serious and significant mitigating circumstance that he acted at the behest and under the direction of his treacherous Uncle, Prince Iroh. Under ordinary circumstances, this court would conduct a full investigation into the allegations against Prince Iroh, and apply what discoveries could be found to the sentence. However, that is not necessary in this case.”

He paused for effect. There were a number of outraged cries from the gallery, swiftly silenced. The Justice Minister had confidence that Minister Kei’s agents were taking note of the dissenting voices.

“Due to the deeply personal nature of this case, the Fire Lord himself has chosen to intercede on behalf of his only son, although so acute was his grief that he could not bear to witness his degradation before this court. His words follow, and although this court has no authority to alter or amend them in any way, we are bound to say that we concur on every point.”

He set the large scroll aside and unsealed the smaller scroll that was stamped with the great seal of state. He cleared his throat, taking the opportunity to glance down at Prince Zuko. The prince’s shoulders had hunched at the pronouncement that the Fire Lord had weighed in. Good , the Justice Minister thought. Let the boy learn the lesson in full .

“Prince Zuko has dishonored himself so utterly that there can be no redemption. He has been given every opportunity to do what is required of him by his family and his nation. By his own actions, he has forfeited his birthright, and I can no longer call him my son. What titles and duties he was heir to are henceforth stripped, and shall pass to others of worthy quality. He shall no longer have a place among his kin in life or, when the inevitable shall come to pass, afterwards.”

The Justice Minister paused to clear his throat. The gallery had to be silenced. Prince Zuko, despite his attempts to stoicism, could not keep the horror from his eyes as he gazed up at the panel of magistrates.

“His former punishment is to be amended thus: that he be banished from the Fire Nation and confined to the western islands; that his head be shaved so that all who look upon him may know the nature of his crime; that his skin be marked so that the memory of his transgressions may never fade. It is only my enduring and undying affection that stays my hand from further punishment, as he would otherwise entirely deserve. Thus it is decreed by I, Fire Lord Ozai, on the thirteenth day of the first month of the seventh year of my reign.”

He rolled the scroll back up, cleared his throat once again, and addressed the room.

“On a personal note,” he said. “I am a father myself. I can only imagine the pain that must have been inflicted on our gracious and mighty Fire Lord, and would not personally be inclined to show mercy in this case. It is the hope of the court that the now former-Prince Zuko spends his exile to the western islands in deep reflection. It is beyond imagining that the spirits would extend the chance of redemption in the next life to one who has committed such abominable crimes, but ours is the adjudication of human laws, not the affairs of the spirits. This court is adjourned.”

Two guards came and dragged Zuko away. He was a wretched sight, face glistening with silently-shed tears, his body limp in the guards’ grip. His strength had failed him at last, to the Justice Minister’s satisfaction. The gallery was cleared, and the senior magistrates joined the Justice Minister in their annex for a well-deserved rest.

***

Azula walked calmly into the throne room. It was a wide, dark space, lit only by the moat of fire around the Fire Lord’s dais. Pillars held up a gold leaf ceiling. The dark galleries were not unoccupied—elite guards stood vigil, and scribes and attendants silently came and went; however, the Fire Lord saw no supplicants today. She kneeled before her Father, directing her eyes respectfully down.

“Arise, Crown Princess Azula,” he commanded.

She stood.

“The swiftness and exactitude with which you carried out my command is commendable,” he said.

“Thank you, Father,” she said, bowing again.

“I am not finished speaking,” he said, and she heard the edge in his tone. “Do not be so hasty to accept praise.”

She remained silent. He waited one…two…three seconds before continuing.

“Your swift capture of my treacherous brother and that wayward fool that was my son, and the manner you chose to deal with them, has pleased me,” he said. Azula allowed herself a smirk. The room was too dark for the Fire Lord to perceive it from his seat. “In particular, your theatrics with your brother’s trial. I wonder, perhaps you felt moved to play one last game with him before his exile?”

Azula schooled her emotions before answering. It was unnerving, to know that her Father’s gaze was ever on her, and that he seemed to know her better than she knew herself. If she were Zuko, she would feign outrage at the idea that anything so serious as treason could be treated as a game. However, she was not, and would never be, like Zuko.

“An amusing diversion, as you say, Father,” she said. “But I’ve had my fun.”

“Good,” her Father said. “I have another task for you.”

“I am at your disposal, Father,” she said.

“Commander Daigo’s fleet failed to capture the Avatar at Lion Turtle Rocks,” her Father said. “We have been tracking his movements across the Fire Nation. Although you did exactly as you were told, my daughter, you allowed the greatest threat to our nation slip through your fingers. You will correct this mistake, and complete the mission your brother failed: capture the Avatar and bring him to me in chains.”

“It will be done,” Azula said, bowing again. She turned on her heel when she was dismissed and strode as quickly as decorum allowed from the throne room. She had her servants schedule an appointment with Minister Kei to bring her up-to-date on the Avatar’s movements, and sent word to the harbor to have the Powerful prepared to sail within the day. Li and Lo were summoned—air nomads still existed, in isolated refugee groups, in their lifetime, so their advice would be invaluable—and an order mobilizing an elite squad of firebenders was sent to the Fire Army headquarters.

Azula kept her anger in check. 

She knew, logically, that her assignment was a tangible display of the level of trust that the Fire Lord placed in her. Whereas Zuko had been sent out with a relic of Sozin’s era on a fool’s errand, she went forth with the best the Fire Nation had to offer on a mission of utmost importance. Victory was assured; it was simply a question of when. 

Nevertheless, the fact that the blame for Commander Daigo’s failure had been pinned to her was irksome, and a small part of her, the tiniest of whispering doubts, worried that perhaps her Father saw her as a threat. He could not trust anyone else to capture the Avatar, that much was clear. He’d probably do it himself, if he didn’t have a nation to lead and a war to wage.

He wouldn’t be sending her off to her death, surely. He had no other heirs.

She shook her head. She would not indulge her doubts further. Her Father had tasked her with a glorious mission, and she would see it completed to perfection, just as she did with everything else.

“Oh, one last thing,” she said to her lady-in-waiting. “Find out for me what’s become of Ty Lee and Mai. I should like to pay them both a visit before I leave.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” her lady-in-waiting said, bowing low.

Chapter Text

Zuko sat in the dark of the prison wagon, which rattled and shook as it went. His forehead, arms, chest, and back stung, and his scalp felt cold. He was dressed in scratchy reddish-brown clothes that made him sweat. His wrists were cuffed in iron. His ankles were also cuffed, but there was a length of chain between them to allow him some shuffling movement. Naturally, they had taken away Yura's necklace, along with everything else. One of his guards on the Powerful had tried to rip it from his neck while he fought back, but the cord was too strong to snap with a show of force. It was cold comfort, knowing the only symbol he had of Yura and their love was too strong to simply break. They subdued him and cut the cord instead, and he hadn't seen it since.

The wagon came to a halt. With a rusty clank, the door was thrown open and tepid morning light flowed in. Zuko flinched, both from the sudden brightness and the sudden sight of marked, ugly skin. For his punishment, he had been tattooed, forever outcasting him from Fire Nation society. On his forehead, they had carved a red camellia, so that everyone would know his depravity. On his arms, chest, and back he had been given a black mark for every ship he was deemed responsible for sinking. They ranged in size from small, skinny dash marks for the frigates to bigger rectangles for the cruisers. The biggest was a thick, long line for the Eiyou-eiga that ran part of the way down his spine from the base of his skull. Three black bands encircled his wrists, meaning there would be no redemption for his crimes.

They had done them all at once, and he had passed out from the pain. One of the more sympathetic jailers had told him that at least the dashes were symmetrical. Zuko couldn’t bring himself to check.

“On your feet,” the guard said gruffly.

He gingerly stepped down from the wagon, finding himself on a wide platform overlooking the sea. In the distance, he could see an island covered in jungle trees and surrounded by tall, sharp rocks. On the platform before him, however, was a strange contraption. It appeared to be an enormous red balloon with a number of, for lack of a better word, fins, tethered to the ground by several thick ropes. A basket hung beneath it, inside which was a metal engine. A propeller blade protruded from this. A pair of soldiers in leather armor were in the process of loading the basket. A third stoked the engine.

“Move it,” the guard said, shoving Zuko in the back. “Don’t stand there gawking. We don’t have all day.”

“Is this the convict?” An official, wearing official robes and an official’s hat, holding an official’s clipboard, approached. He was flanked by a pair of soldiers wearing officer’s sashes over the same leather uniform as the others.

“Yes, sir,” the guard said, bowing smartly.

“Name?” the official asked.

“Zuko,” Zuko replied.

“Sentenced to lifelong banishment for the crimes of treason, barratry, homosexuality,” the official began, and then whistled. “We’d be here all day if I read this out. Corporal, inspect him.”

The corporal stepped forward, roughly jerking Zuko forward by the arms. He hissed in pain as calloused hands ran over his marks. He was patted up and down, the corporal leering at him as he shoved his hands between Zuko’s legs and down his backside. His mouth was forced open, and his gums checked, perhaps for a hairpin or other small weapon.

“All clear,” the corporal announced, stepping back into line as if this were entirely normal and not at all humiliating.

“Captain, are you ready to launch?” the official asked the other officer.

“Yes, sir,” the captain said.

“Make sure he’s nice and secure, then,” the official said, gesturing to Zuko and stamping his clipboard a few times with a little stone seal.

“Come this way,” the captain said to Zuko’s guards.

He was led over to the basket and tossed inside like a sack of grain. He landed hard on the floor. The other three men in the basket laughed as he struggled into an upright position.

“Look at him squirm,” the stoker chuckled, shutting the furnace.

“Hey, cheer up, worm,” the second soldier said. “You’re flying first class aboard the War Ministry’s brand new war balloon. Aren’t you lucky?”

The captain jumped in, followed by the corporal.

“Final check,” the captain called.

“Rigging secure,” the first soldier said. “Some dampness on the balloon, but nothing to worry about.”

“Rudder turning,” the corporal said, going to a panel of ropes at the front. “Elevators secure.”

“Ballast and cargo secure,” the second soldier said. “Prisoner, too.”

“Furnace is hot,” the stoker said, closing the furnace door. “Door is locked.”

“Cast off!” the Captain ordered. The big ropes tying the balloon down were loosened, and with a gentle lurch the whole thing lifted up into the air. It was hardly a stable rise, but Zuko, so used to life aboard a ship, barely felt the rocking.

“Seto, open her up,” the Captain ordered, going to the front of the basket, staring hard at the sky and the sea. The stoker, Seto, did something near the furnace, and with a shudder, the propeller began to turn.

As the balloon rose higher, the propeller turned faster, pushing them forward towards the sea. The captain kept watch while the corporal steered by pulling on different ropes at the front panel—a little slack here, a little tension there, and the whole balloon changed directions. 

“Adjust for wind,” the Captain would say. “Hard turn starboard.”

Zuko noted which ropes the corporal adjusted while he worked. Seto and the first soldier took turns on the engine while the second soldier stood by for further orders. He watched Zuko eyeing the balloon with undisguised curiosity.

“Impressed, are you?” he said, folding his arms smugly. “The War Minister ordered six after seeing the prototype in action. This one’s number two, the Tempest’s Fury .”

“Only you call it that, Hinata,” the corporal said with a derisive snort. “Everyone else uses its proper name.”

“War Balloon Number Two isn’t a proper name,” Hinata retorted. “It’s got no personality!”

“Yeah, but Tempest’s Fury ?” the captain said, taking his eyes off the horizon and the clouds.

“What’s wrong with Tempest’s Fury ?” Hinata demanded.

“Well, all of the other war balloons have already crashed,” the captain said. “Number Two has only lasted this long because we’re a glorified sailing boat.”

“Half of those crashes were due to airman incompetence!” Hinata said heatedly. Zuko blinked—so they were airmen, and not soldiers or sailors. Interesting. A plan began to formulate in his mind. He took a leaf out of Yura’s book.

“But how does it work?” Zuko asked, looking around with an exaggerated sense of wide-eyed wonder.

“Quiet, you,” the corporal snapped.

“I’m going to be stuck on that island for the rest of my life,” Zuko retorted. “What could the harm possibly be in telling me?”

“Shut up,” the corporal said again. “Or I’ll gag you.”

“Thirty degrees starboard,” the captain ordered. “Drop ballast, half-sack.”

“Aye, sir.”

The airmen moved around the basket, messing with a few heavy bags of sand that Zuko had noticed were tied to the exterior. One airman “dropped ballast” too quickly, and the basket lurched right. Zuko nearly fell against the furnace.

“Gently, gently,” the captain cautioned.

The basket was righted, and the journey continued. Hinata twiddled his thumbs, glancing between the corporal and Zuko. It was clear he wanted to continue speaking on the topic of the war balloon. Zuko nodded encouragingly.

“So anyway, the furnace burns coal, which makes hot air,” he said, unable to contain himself. “The balloon captures the hot air, and because heat rises the hot air lifts up the whole contraption, provided it’s not too heavy. You can also use some types of gas, but to my knowledge the War Ministry hasn’t been able to do anything with them except make very big accidental bombs —”

“Sozin’s sagging balls, Hinata, shut your mouth!” the corporal ordered. “I’ll have you stripped down and hung from the basket by your toes, or do you want a court martial for telling military secrets to a treasonous flower boy?”

“What’s he going to do, knit himself a balloon out of palm leaves?” Hinata yelled back, and even Zuko frowned. He had never allowed discipline to get so lax under his command. “Even if he has allies, which I doubt—”

“Hinata, enough,” the captain said. “Corporal Chikara’s right.”

Silence, except for the wind, the turning of the engine, and seabird calls, descended on the basket. Hinata huffed, leaning back against the basket wall like a petulant, overgrown child. The rest relaxed at their posts. Zuko was silently memorizing every detail about the balloon that he could, his plan crystallizing as he noted details he’d missed before: the basket wall came up to waist height for the airmen; there was a leather pouch of tools hanging by the furnace; none of the airmen clustered together or did anything to upset the balance; Corporal Chikara shot him glances frequently, except when consulting the captain; the other airmen barely acknowledged him.

“I’m just saying, he’s going to die on that rock,” Hinata said at last.

“Would you drop it already!?” Corporal Chikara roared.

A shouting match that Zuko did not care about at all occurred, and the basket rocked several times. Zuko curled in on himself as if he was scared and cowering in fear, but what he was actually doing was using his body to shield his shackles from view. He grabbed the chain keeping his feet together and focused his chi, heating the links so that they started to glow and deform. With unprotected hands, he knew he couldn’t hold the links for long, so he pulled and twisted with all his might.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

He was yanked up by Hinata and the other airman whose name Zuko didn’t know. Corporal Chikara looked down at his chains, which still glowed. He winced as the airmen held him more tightly.

“Firebending in a wicker basket? Stupid man,” he said, and he wound up to punch Zuko in the gut. 

Zuko read the move, and kicked his feet sharply up. This had two effects: the airmen were now holding his entire body weight; and, the burning hot chain between Zuko’s legs caught Corporal Chikara’s outstretched arm, deflecting the punch, although not burning him through the leather. The airmen dropped him. With a twist and a kick, Zuko got the chain and his leg over Corporal Chikara’s head and dragged him to the floor of the basket. The corporal screamed as Zuko used his body to break the deformed chainlinks, freeing himself.

The battle was brutally short. Seto quickly armed himself with a wrench, but the others could only use their fists; Zuko, running on adrenaline and fighting for his life, used everything he could get his hands on, and was not afraid to firebend in close quarters. The captain was blasted overboard, followed by the unnamed airman. Seto got in a number of bruising body blows before Zuko kicked him backwards against the furnace, cracking his head open and knocking him out. Corporal Chikara fought dirty, dislocating Zuko’s arm with a painful popping noise. Nevertheless, he joined Seto in the pile on the floor. Hinata went for a grapple, but followed the captain and the airman into the sea.

Panting, Zuko rummaged at the corporal’s belt for the keys to unlock his cuffs. With a yell, he popped his arm back into its socket. Picking up the wrench, he hit the corporal a few times while he was down as payback. Then he heaved both men over the side.

When he was finally alone, he let out an exhausted breath and sank down to the floor. His right arm was a mass of pins and needles, and while he could still breathe just fine he could feel bruises forming around his ribs. He rubbed his wrists, now free of their cuffs. 

“Get up, Zuko,” he said to himself. “You don’t have time for this.” 

He got to his feet and took stock. The balloon’s rigging was much more complex than he knew what to do with, but he thought he had the steering down. The supplies seemed to be mostly spare rope, canvas, tools, tar, coal, and hardware for emergency repairs. There was a pack of food that looked like it was enough for the airmen to have a meal, maybe two depending on how strict their ration was. Zuko was just one person, which meant he had enough to last a week, if he only ate one meal per day. There were no maps, but there was a compass, so Zuko had no idea where he was beyond somewhere over the western sea. He turned his back on the island which was to have been his place of exile.

Right now, he had only one animating purpose: fulfill his oath to the Avatar.

“The western islands are just south of Agni’s Line,” Zuko muttered, looking at the compass, and then at the position of the sun. “Omashu is also south of Agni’s Line. So I need to go due east.”

He tried to mimic what Corporal Chikara had done with the steering ropes. The balloon turned this way and that until he figured out the right sequence of tightening and loosening to get the front of the basket lined up with the compass. Then he secured the ropes, and let out a sigh of relief. His plan to fly the balloon to the Earth Kingdom might work.

The adrenaline was now wearing off, and Zuko began to shiver. The air at this height was colder than at the ground, so he dug around in the supplies for a spare coat and different pants. He winced as the sleeves pulled at his still-fresh marks, but at least now he didn’t have to look at them. He found a clean cloth and wrapped it around his head, but this simple act of covering his bare scalp broke his resolve.

He had run a hand over the smooth spot where his phoenix tail had been. There was nothing left: no hair, no honor, no legacy, no throne.

No family.

No chance of ever going back.

Blinking back powerful sobs that threatened to overwhelm him, he checked the compass to make sure he was going the right way. He checked the furnace to make sure the fire was still burning hot. He paced the basket, looking for things to do, but to his untrained eye it all looked the same. Unable to distract himself, he lay down on the floor under a scratchy blanket and cried until he slept. But every change of position pressed scratchy cloth into his marks, waking him up and beginning the cycle anew.

A pair of seagulls landed on the rim of the basket. Zuko blinked blearily up at them. They squawked, eyeing up his food pack.

“Go away,” he said, sitting up and throwing a lazy spurt of fire at them. They took off in an indignant flurry of feathers. Zuko rubbed his eyes and went to check on his heading. He was now traveling southeast, and the ocean looked much closer than it had before he’d fallen asleep. He adjusted the steering ropes and then went to the furnace to rake the ash and add fresh coal, remembering what Hinata said about hot air. The sun was in the west, which meant he had slept for most of the day, and he was out of sight of land, so there was no telling where he was. He growled in frustration, flopping over the side of the basket.

“Stupid!” he chastised himself. “Way to go, Zuko. Now you’re lost.”

Another seagull landed next to him.

“You don’t know the way to Omashu, do you?” he asked. The seagull cocked its head at him, and then flew off. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

It was too soon into the trip to start going crazy, but maybe Zuko had earned the right. At least until he found the Avatar again. He focused on that, because thinking about anything else would undo him again, and who knew how far off-course he would end up? His stomach growled, so he dug through the food pack and made himself something simple: hard tack with dried seaweed and nuts. It was barely filling and hardly palatable, and he wondered if it would be possible to catch one of the seagulls to eat.

When night fell, the stars came out. The full moon watched Zuko closely as he tried to identify constellations to navigate by.

“That one is…the lion turtle,” Zuko said. “Which means that over there is the wine cup. And that one… the archer. And if I follow the line of his arrow… that’s, uh.”

He checked the compass, and then traced the line of the Archer’s arrow to where it met the horizon.

“South.”

Uncle had been the one to teach him the patterns of the stars. When he was a boy, his Mother had pointed out a few, but only the ones she knew the tales of: the mother bear moose and her cub, the three sisters and the cow duck, the dragon king. It was his Uncle who had taught him that the stars were a guide that could tell any who knew how to read them the way. It was an invaluable skill for a soldier lost behind enemy lines, and their many months at sea had only proved him right. Zuko hadn’t learned nearly enough to consider himself a skillful navigator, but perhaps in this case he was passably competent.

“I haven’t given up yet, Uncle,” Zuko said. “I’ll find the Avatar. I’ll end this war.”

His gaze found the moon, staring back at him from on high.

“Oh Moon Spirit,” Zuko said, closing his eyes in prayer. “I beg you: please guide my way. Help me find the Avatar again.”

The moon simply looked at him. Zuko frowned.

“Please! I…I have nothing left to offer but my oath to the spirits,” he said. “And since you’re one of the great spirits, you should help me!”

Still, the moon did nothing. Zuko growled.

“Haven’t I done enough!?” he yelled. “I saved your life from Zhao! I warned the Water Tribe about the invasion! Answer me!”

The moon did not change, but Zuko got the distinct impression of a parent looking disapprovingly at a child throwing a tantrum. He schooled his breath and brought his feelings back into line.

“Who am I kidding?” he said. “Yelling at the moon isn’t going to help. If only Sokka were here.”

Allowing himself to acknowledge that he desperately missed Sokka’s presence was an acceptable show of vulnerability. Sokka no doubt would have a plan together to get them to Omashu, and if that plan failed he’d have a backup plan. Moreover, he wouldn’t have to endure this journey alone. They could take shifts resting and keeping the balloon on course. They could split the rations together. They could talk about the war and the plan to depose his Father—the Fire Lord, the man wasn’t his father anymore, by royal decree—the Fire Lord, and figure out how Aang would learn firebending now that his Uncle was in a high security Fire Nation prison.

“Hey, Moon Spirit,” Zuko said, looking up at the pale white orb in the sky. “If you won’t help me, then at least watch over Sokka and his sister. Keep them safe.”

Almost as an afterthought, he reached into the food pack and took out a dried persimmon. He considered what to do with—did he throw it overboard? But then it would go to the Ocean and not the Moon. In the end, he incinerated it, and scattered the ashes to the wind, which carried them up and away.

A knot of stress inside him untangled, and he felt, somehow, that the Moon had heard him.

He checked his course one last time and laid down to nap. He didn’t see the clouds gathering on the horizon, nor did he notice how the wind picked up. Thunder rolled in the distance.

Zuko dreamed of flying.

He was standing in Appa’s basket. Darkness pressed in all around. Sokka and Katara were asleep, and Aang was dozing at the reins. Zuko looked down at himself: he was wearing his prison uniform, and his arms were clearly visible. His marks, those dark, hateful gashes on his skin, were visible.

Aang jerked suddenly and sat up with a surprised yell.

“Oh man, this isn’t good,” he said, looking around. His eyes found Zuko, and widened in surprise. “Zuko!?”

He jumped to his feet and scrambled into the basket. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he noticed the tattoos. Aang’s mouth fell open.

“Zuko…what happened to you?”

The darkness roiled and rumbled. Zuko flinched away, burning in shame.

“Don’t look at me!” he said.

“Wait, is this…are we dreaming?” Aang asked. Zuko didn’t see what he did, but the basket shifted. “This is a spirit dream!”

“A what?” Zuko demanded, not turning around.

“I think we’re dreaming in the spirit world,” Aang said. “I tried summoning a bowl of mountain berry ice cream and it didn’t work. And I can’t bend, either!”

“Avatar Roku told me about this,” Zuko said, turning at last. “He said that sometimes the dreams of mortals can touch the spirit world. But the way he said it, it’s not a common thing.”

“Well, I don’t know why it’s happening, but I’m glad it is,” Aang said. “We were really worried after…”

The darkness rumbled again, louder this time. Zuko flinched, and Aang fell silent.

“Where are you?” Zuko asked. “Did you manage to make it to Omashu?”

“Not yet,” Aang said. “We just left the Fire Nation, so we think we’ll be there soon.”

“Good,” Zuko said. “I’m on my way there, too.”

“How? You were captured!” Aang said explosively. The darkness rumbled and flashed, as if responding to his emotional outburst. “We watched your ship sink! Sokka thought you were dead for sure!”

Zuko looked down at the sleeping warrior. His heart thumped. The darkness flashed again, and the growling rumble took on a distinctly animal quality.

“I’m not dead,” he said. “Tell him I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Zuko,” Aang said, coming forward and stamping his foot. His fists curled. He was angry, but he was worried even more. “If we’re spirit dreaming, then that’s what you really look like right now. What did they do to you? What are those markings? Where did your stupid hair go!?”

“Hey, my hair was not stupid!” Zuko snapped.

“Just tell me!” Aang yelled. Something flew past them in the darkness, long and serpentine. “Are you safe?”

“I—,” Zuko said, but then lightning flashed, thunder roared, and he saw the monstrous face of the dragon looming up from behind Aang. Its golden eyes pierced his soul, and he fell.

Zuko hit the side of the basket. Rain lashed him as he threw off the blanket and realized, to his horror, that he had flown into a storm. He ran to the panel and tried to steer to safety, but he was in the clouds and couldn’t see. Lighting a fire, he dug around for the compass. The flame sputtered and popped as the rain fell harder. He found the compass and held it under the light: he was facing north, but the propeller had stopped.

“Oh, come on!” he growled, lurching back to the engine to see if he could figure out what was wrong.

The furnace was still burning, at least. He shoveled more coal into it and blasted it with flames a few times to keep the balloon inflated. The motor on the propeller, however, was a complex piece of mechanical nonsense to his eye. There was a bit that he knew turned over, and there was a valve for pouring water into it. Was that it? Did he need to add more? But what if he flooded it?

Lightning flashed. Thunder cracked. The basket dropped sickeningly as one of the ropes holding it to the balloon snapped. Zuko abandoned the motor; if the basket fell, then he was dead.

He grabbed a coil of spare rope and clambered up into the rigging. The balloon was buffeted back and forth, and the rain was cold. His hands lost all feeling, but he gritted his teeth until he found where the snapped rope was still attached. Grabbing it, he climbed back down with the rope in hand until he reached the beginning of the fray. Carefully, he knotted the spare rope and the frayed rope together, hoping that the one knot he could confidently tie would do the trick.

The balloon spun, and he lost his footing. He fell, sliding down the newly-tied spare rope until he was hanging in space below the basket. His hands burned, but he kept a tight grip. Shutting out everything else except the goal, he climbed hand over hand back up until he was about even with the basket. Jackknifing his body, he swung back towards it.

His knees almost turned to jelly when his feet touched the floor of the basket, but he forced himself to stay upright until he had resecured the rope. The wind picked up the basket and the balloon and tossed them both hither and thither. Zuko could only cling for dear life.

Hours later, the storm cleared, leaving Zuko shivering, soaked through to the bone, and delirious. The clouds receded west, away from the coming sun. Zuko blinked, and thought he saw the tail of a red dragon disappear into them. Looking ahead, he saw the distant shadows of the Patola Mountains. He would recognize them anywhere, for how often they had mocked him in his search for the Avatar.

“How…?”

He blinked. He rubbed his eyes. He had finally cracked. There was no way any storm could have carried him this far south. And yet, there was no mistaking that mountain profile which caught the morning sun’s rays. The peaks rose higher, and Zuko realized abruptly that the balloon was falling.

The ground was below him now, and it was approaching quicker and quicker. He went to the furnace and tried to get the fire going again. The coals were damp, however, and burned sluggishly. Thick, black smoke poured out of the open door, getting in his eyes and throat. He coughed, and slammed it shut.

Zuko stumbled over to the rope panel and tried to bring the balloon on a course that didn’t end with him crashing into the side of a cliff. The balloon’s rudders and elevators didn’t respond like he expected, but he managed to narrowly avoid careening into a sheer rock face. The balloon’s descent, however, could not be stopped.

Beyond the ridge, a narrow, forested canyon appeared. Zuko pulled hard on the ropes, and the balloon steered towards the mouth of the canyon, where the deep blue ocean could be seen. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself as the treetops scraped the bottom of the basket. Then he was in the trees, and he heard a loud tearing sound just before the basket dropped. Unable to pull himself together enough to jump, he fell.

Something poked him in the face.

His body hurt all over, and whoever or whatever was poking him in the face had made themselves into the focal point of a sharp spike of rage. He couldn’t move his limbs, but his jaw still worked. With a weak inhale, he spat a flame.

“Whoa! This little tigerfish has spark!”

Zuko willed his eyes to open, and a world of towering shapes and moving blobs slowly came into focus. A face loomed over him: a rough, wind-burned man’s face with a scraggly beard and hair pulled back into a dark brown horsetail.

“Good morning, little tigerfish,” the man said. His voice was not unkind, but he leered unpleasantly. “You’ve taken quite the spill.”

Above the leering man, Zuko could see the basket. The engine had fallen out, and must have been on the ground somewhere nearby. The balloon was draped over the branches of the tree it had gotten caught on, ropes hanging all around. A crew of several others was working to free it, hacking at the branches with machetes.

“Who are you?” Zuko managed to croak. His throat felt like it had been scoured with rocks.

“Hiranjan,” the man said. “And who might you be?”

“Zuko.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to be making your acquaintance, Zuko,” Hiranjan said. “Can you stand?”

He pushed himself up into a sitting position. That was as far as he got before dizziness overtook him. Hiranjan caught him before he fell and hit his head again.

“Steady, steady,” the man said. “Spirits above and below, you’re burning hotter than a lavamander’s eggs, little tigerfish.”

“Stop calling me that,” Zuko said, words slurring. He was feeling sick.

“Let’s get you somewhere you can rest and be seen to.” Hiranjan lifted Zuko up, careful to cradle his head and keep his arms from flopping. Beneath his yak seal coat, Zuko could tell the man was all hard, wiry muscle.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Just a little ways,” Hiranjan said as he walked. “Out of this spooky little valley of goats and ghosts, over an adorably quaint but devilishly deadly dune of dart flowers and dandy-antlions, across the beach, and up onto the good ship Harvest’s Bounty .”

Zuko felt as if a lead weight had dropped onto his stomach.

“You’re pirates,” he said.

“There’s no need to use such hurtful language, little tigerfish!” Hiranjan chided. “We’re gentlefolk of fortune: we go where the wind takes us, and take what fortune provides. And you, little tigerfish, have just provided us with quite an interesting take.”

Hiranjan’s grin was wide, nearly splitting his face in two. He laughed, an uproarious belly laugh that shook Zuko. If he wasn’t so weak and dizzy; if he wasn’t injured all over; if he’d had any chance at all to escape from this man. But looking around, he saw there were many others present—carrying tools, armed with knives or bows, talking, laughing, yelling. If he tried to escape, he’d be hunted. In his current state, he wouldn’t get two steps.

Zuko was carried out of the valley, over a sand dune covered in sharp, spiny plants and dozens of worryingly deep burrows, and towards a wide beach of white sand. Anchored in the ocean not too far away was a three-masted wooden sailing ship. The sails were in, but Zuko could see a few that were cut similarly to Water Tribe cutters. A longboat awaited them, crewed by three more pirates and a group of chained rowers.

“There she is, little tigerfish,” Hiranjan said. “The Harvest’s Bounty . Now, I know she’s not much to look at, but she’s fast and tough, and hasn’t been caught once in the seven years I’ve sailed with her.”

“Hiranjan, what’s that you’ve found?” A voice called from the right, out of Zuko’s sight.

“Ah, Captain! Just introducing this little tigerfish to his new home,” Hiranjan said, turning so that Zuko could take in the sight of the approaching pirate captain. He was an imposing figure, although not as tall as Hiranjan. He had jowls and a gut, but they were no less hard and weathered than his crewman’s wiry build. Powerful musculature rippled under the captain’s tattooed rolls. His coat flapped in the wind, and his hair was long and graying. He looked at Zuko like he was a pig at auction, and he was considering whether the price paid would be worth the cuts of his meat.

“This was the only survivor?” the captain asked.

“Only survivor? By my mother’s cooking, he was the only one there at all ,” Hiranjan exclaimed.

“I see,” the captain said. “Can you speak, boy?”

Zuko simply glared at him.

“Of course he can,” Hiranjan said. “But he’s not in a fit state to be answering questions.”

“Fine, do what you want,” the captain said. “But I want him in my cabin ready to talk when we weigh anchor. How long until the balloon’s cut free?”

“Maybe a few hours,” Hiranjan said. “Salmee reckons it’ll only be worth its scrap, but she’s got her crew scouring the forest for bits and pieces.”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s only scrap,” the captain said, his gaze boring into Zuko. “If we can’t take it in a fit state to use, your new friend here will simply have to help us make a new one.”

“I’m sure he looks forward to the prospect with all the eagerness of a nobleman’s whore,” Hiranjan said, grinning down at Zuko. “You hear that, little tigerfish? Captain Tau says you’re useful to us. Isn’t that wonderful?”

He laughed, and carried Zuko away from Captain Tau towards the longboat. Zuko clenched his teeth to keep his tongue from betraying him. He wouldn’t die here. But how long would it take the pirates to realize he had no more idea how to make a war balloon than they did?

Chapter Text

Hiranjan took Zuko in the longboat across the water towards the ship, chattering the whole way like a macaw monkey about absolutely nothing. Zuko lay on the bottom of the boat, longing to throw himself into the sea and end this misery. The coxswain, a dark-skinned man with black hair and a vacant expression on his face, swayed at the rudder, occasionally laughing at Hiranjan’s jokes a second or two too late. Two other pirates relaxed at the bow.

They were fraternal twins, identical in every way from the neck up: shaved heads, matching silver ear piercings, round faces with deep sun tans, and three air swirls tattooed on their foreheads. From the neck down, they were utterly and completely distinct from each other in both body type and dress: he was taller, but skinnier, and wore loose, yellow and orange garments that exposed his chest and belly; she was shorter, but broader in the shoulder, and wore teal and white clothes that covered her so completely she gave the impression of being not so much a person as a cloud of fabric with a face, hands, and feet. Hiranjan must have caught him staring, because he said: “Rinchen, Dechen, why don’t you introduce yourselves to our little tigerfish?”

“Don’t give them nicknames, Hiranjan,” the woman said. “Once you give them nicknames, you become attached.”

“Nah, he’s alright,” the man said. “He’s just filling in the void after the last one bit him. What did you call him, again?”

“You mean the psychopath?” the woman said. “We should’ve dumped him overboard, and I’ve always said so.”

“Yeah, yeah, but what was his nickname?” the man said. “It was cuttlepine, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, speak not that name!” Hiranjan clasped a hand to his breast. “My heart still weeps.”

Zuko groaned in exasperated despair, a sentiment evidently felt by the chained rowers—three Earth Kingdom men opposite three Fire Nation men—who said nothing as they pulled the longboat closer to the Harvest’s Bounty .

The longboat was drawn up by lines lowered from the overhanging poop deck, bringing it even with the quarterdeck and allowing Hiranjan to disembark with Zuko, once again carried in his arms like an invalid. The twins hopped off after them, replaced by another pair of sailors dressed in orange and blue. With a shout, the longboat was lowered away again.

“Welcome aboard, little tigerfish!” Hiranjan said.

“What’s this?”

Another man approached, his head also shaved to reveal air swirl tattoos and several moles on his scalp. He was older, his face wrinkled and weathered, and he looked at Hiranjan the same way a parent looks at a child who has brought home a pet they aren’t allowed to keep. He wore a number of gold rings and bracelets, and had a pair of knives tucked into the blue sash wrapped around his waist.

“This little tigerfish is the skipper and only survivor of that balloon crash which got the good Captain’s trousers in such a twist not several hours ago,” Hiranjan said.

“Mhm,” the old man looked at Zuko. “You’ve adopted another child.”

“I haven’t!” Hiranjan said, affecting affront. Zuko felt a stab of panic that he might not be left alone by the wiry pirate. “I have merely extended a merciful hand to a young person in need. He’s injured, as you can see, so I’m taking him to see Hira.”

“Fine. Take your time,” the old man said. “Until Salmee brings back the scrap, we won’t know what he’s worth to us.”

“Ah, such cold calculation from our Kelsang,” Hiranjan said. “People are more than numbers in a ledger, old friend.”

“Not people like him,” Kelsang said, and then spat on the deck.

Hiranjan shook his head, and carried Zuko across the quarterdeck to a companionway that led down to the main deck. Harvest’s Bounty was unlike any ship Zuko had been on before. The whole thing was curved like a bow, meaning that the deck appeared to slope towards the middle, where the mainmast stood. Hatches every few feet led down into colorfully-painted compartments, from which people came and went. Hiranjan led him past these, waving and chatting with several sailors and basically ignoring anyone in Earth Kingdom green or Fire Nation red, swabbing the deck or pulling on ropes.

It became quickly apparent to Zuko where he would stand in the ship’s hierarchy if he couldn’t make himself useful to Captain Tau.

“And here, little tigerfish,” Hiranjan said, stopping at a hatch near the foremast. “Is where the good doctor resides.”

A narrow ladder led down into a lit hold that smelled of sawdust and canvas. It was roughly square-shaped, but packed with things. He saw coils of rope, piles of cut wood, barrels of nails and other bits of metal, rolls of red, green, and blue canvas, tables stacked with tools, a pile of broken chairs, a set of wooden screens blocking off part of the hold from view, and hammocks hanging haphazardly wherever there was room.

“Hira! Make your presence known lest I, in the company of a minor and a patient, stumble upon a scandalous scene!” Hiranjan called. From behind the wooden screen, Zuko heard a groan, followed by a curse, and then the sound of feet hitting the deck. Hira turned out to be a dark-skinned man with a haircut that resembled a Water Tribe wolf tail—Zuko knew it was different, but couldn’t say how—a pair of dusty yellow trousers, and air swirl tattoos on his forehead. Zuko counted his ribs. Hira blinked blearily at the pair of them before scowling.

“No, I told you, I’m not taking another one of your charity cases,” he said. “Not after last time.”

“Yes, you did intimate as much in our previous conversation,” Hiranjan said. “But—!”

“But nothing,” Hira said, going back behind the wooden screen. “Treat him yourself!”

“Captain Tau wants him ready for this evening,” Hiranjan said. “He’s got a secret or two that our wise and benevolent lord would like. Can’t be spilling secrets in his current condition.”

Hira poked his head back around the wooden screen.

“Fine,” he said. “But this one had better keep his hands and teeth to himself.”

“Hear that, little tigerfish?” Hiranjan said. “The doctor will see you now.”

“That man isn’t a doctor,” Zuko said incredulously, looking at the many cuts and scrapes that covered Hira’s hands and arms.

“No, not as such, according to the laws of any particular nation that deigns to codify such matters,” Hiranjan said. “But he’s an experienced sawbones, and that’s better than all the fancy schools and mainland tutoring.”

“What Hiranjan means, boy,” Hira said, clearing space on a table so Zuko could be laid down. “Is that you’d better hope whatever’s wrong with you isn’t worse than a bumped head and a twisted ankle.”

Hira looked Zuko over, and it was only Zuko’s better sense that kept him from lashing out. Hira poked and prodded him, lifted up his arm by the wrist to examine his marks, and made a lot of thoughtful humming noises. Zuko was about to cry quackery.

“Feverish,” Hira said. “No breaks, but you’ve got some nasty bruising and probably won’t be walking right for a while. Useless on the deck or in the tops, but maybe Kelsang’ll stick him in the laundry room. Mind telling me what happened to put you in this state?”

“...I fell,” Zuko said, glaring suspiciously up at him.

“Hm,” Hira squeezed his knees and ankles hard, causing him to cry out in pain. “We’ll wrap these up, and he’ll be right as rain, after a few days of rest. The tattoos look new. They also look like you haven’t been tending them properly.”

“That’s none of your business,” Zuko snapped.

“It will be, if you’re not careful,” Hira snapped back. “Without cleaning or airing, any tattoo will turn into a nasty scar. You don’t want that, now, do you?”

“I’m used to scars,” Zuko growled.

“Mhm,” Hira said, unimpressed. “Hiranjan, make sure he washes twice a day so these don’t fester. That happens and I’ll have to take his arm. Both, if he’s gonna be stubborn about it.”

“Hand to heaven, heart to earth, I’ll make sure he minds his hygiene,” Hiranjan said solemnly. Zuko looked at him askance.

“I don’t need you to bathe me!”

“That brings me joy to hear,” Hiranjan said. “Anything else, Hira?”

“No,” Hira said. “Tell Kelsang to let him recover before putting him anywhere.”

“I’ll take you to your berth,” Hiranjan said, picking Zuko back up.

Zuko, burning with embarrassment still—hotter now that Hiranjan had threatened him with the humiliation of being bathed like a child—was carried back up to the main deck and towards a nearby hatch. This one led down into a mostly-dark hold, about half as wide as Hira’s workshop, with walls painted light green. Hammocks hung doubled up from the ceiling, crowding out the place entirely. Most were unoccupied, but one or two had sleeping figures Zuko could see.

“Your new abode,” Hiranjan said, gesturing magnanimously.

“What are you doing here?” A voice demanded from behind them.

Hiranjan spun around, bringing them face to irate face with an Earth Kingdom boy no older than Zuko. He had handsome features and shaggy brown hair. His eyebrows had an expressive arch to them that emphasized his severe scowl. He was in a plain green shirt and trousers, and chewed on the end of a piece of wheat.

Zuko shifted in Hiranjan’s arms so he could stand on his own two feet, staring this boy down. The boy folded his arms, and so Zuko also folded his arms. The boy wasn’t looking at him, however, but at Hiranjan, who put his hands up placatingly.

“I was merely showing our new friend a place where he could rest his head,” he said, waving in Zuko’s direction. The boy glanced at him.

“Taking in another stray, Hiranjan?” he accused. “Found someone new to toy with?”

“Perish the thought! These accusations are hurtful lies,” Hiranjan said with mock outrage. “Anyway, introductions are in order! Little tigerfish, this is—”

“Jet,” the boy said, shifting the wheat from one side of his mouth to the other. “The name’s Jet.”

“Zuko,” Zuko said, nodding ever so slightly. Jet smirked.

“Alright, if that’s how it’s gonna be,” Jet said. He frowned at Hiranjan again. “What did you do to him, anyway? He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

“I found him like that,” Hiranjan said. “What? I did!”

“You’re in luck, Zuko,” Jet said. “The hammock below mine just emptied out. You can sleep there.”

“Thank you,” Zuko said, not relishing the prospect of sleeping surrounded by strangers, but also feeling the weight of his poor condition. Jet led him over to the starboard side where a pair of hammocks hung against the hull wall. Zuko lowered himself down on the bottom one.

“Well, I’ll just leave and let you two get acquainted,” Hiranjan said.

“Good,” Jet snapped. “We don’t need your help.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you’re a ray of sunshine as always, little cuttlepine,” Hiranjan said. Zuko stiffened. Cuttlepine? The psychopath? He looked up at Jet from where he lay, but Jet just glared at Hiranjan until he left through the hatch.

“Eel leech,” Jet spat. He turned to look down at Zuko. “So, did they “rescue” you, too?”

“Yeah,” Zuko said.

“That’s how half of us got here,” Jet said, waving around the compartment. “Me, I was taken from a Fire Nation slave ship on its way to Ruanbao by pirates and then sold to Captain Tau. They say that once I pay my debt I’m free to go.”

He scoffed, climbing into the hammock above Zuko’s. It creaked and swayed as he got comfortable.

“With how much they paid for me, I’ll be here until I die, if I don’t escape first,” Jet said. Zuko said nothing. After a moment, Jet spoke up again. “They’ll probably take you to Kelsang later, and he’ll tell you how long they plan on enslaving you. They don’t call it that, but that’s what it is.”

“The others talked about you,” Zuko said.

“Oh yeah? What’d they say?”

“They called you a psychopath,” Zuko said. Jet laughed.

“Gotta say, it kind of hurts to be called crazy by a guy covered in prison tattoos,” he said. Zuko stiffened. “Look, I’ve got my problems, and you’ve got yours. But word of advice: sticking together is the only way we survive this.”

“...sorry,” Zuko said.

Jet waved him off, and began to whistle quietly. Zuko couldn’t muster up the energy to be annoyed by it. So much had happened, and now that he was lying down somewhat comfortably his body was shutting down. He fell asleep, listening to Jet whistle a decent rendition of the Girls of Ba Sing Se, which was one of Uncle’s favorite songs.

It was evening when Zuko was taken to Captain Tau’s cabin, easily the largest room he’d seen aboard the ship and full of rich treasures from every nation. Zuko recognized bone weapons from the Water Tribe, porcelain from the Earth Kingdom, and gold from the Fire Nation. What surprised him most, however, were the tapestries and carpets with airbender motifs. He’d been to every Air Temple and could spot the art style a mile off, and here was a greater collection of artifacts than he’d ever seen in one place.

Captain Tau sat at a table in the center of the room, ignoring his interest. Kelsang opened the door and let in a middle-aged woman wrapped in lavender and carrying a tray of food and wine. Her every other step thumped against the deck, and Zuko realized she had a wooden leg. She placed the tray before Captain Tau, bowed, and made a quick exit. Captain Tau waited until she was gone to start eating, and directed his attention to Zuko between bites.

“Your balloon,” he said. “Where did you steal it?”

Zuko wrinkled his nose as bits of roasted bird sprayed on the table as he spoke.

“I stole it from the Fire Nation,” he replied.

“Where?”

“The western isles,” Zuko said.

“Don’t forget your position, tigerfish,” Captain Tau said, looking balefully up at him. “My ship is not a charity. We do not do free rescues. I’d suggest loosening that tight lip of yours.”

“...they were transporting me to the western isles to banish me,” Zuko said. “I fought back and stole the balloon, and flew it as far as the Patola Mountains.”

“How did you crash?”

“There was a storm,” Zuko said. “I lost control of the balloon. Why do you have so many airbender artifacts?”

“Recognize them, do you?” Captain Tau said with a snort, gulping down the wine. “My grandfather was a farmer near the Southern Air Temple when the Fire Nation burned it to ash. He did good trade with the monks, too. These are heirlooms; relics from a time when people like my grandfather could look up at the skies and see men fly.”

He took a few bites of rice.

“So you stole your balloon, barely survived a storm, and landed in my lap,” he continued. “Salmee found the motor, but in her professional opinion it’s scrap. The balloon’s in worse condition. We’d be better off using the material to repair the sails. Kelsang thinks you’d make an acceptable rower or deckhand, once you’ve recovered from your injuries. I’m inclined to agree.”

Zuko snarled and got to his feet. A second later, Kelsang’s knife was pressed to his throat.

“Best calm down, tigerfish,” the old man said.

“Easy, Kelsang,” Captain Tau said. “Tigerfish has teeth.”

Kelsang blinked and looked down. Fire had sprung to Zuko’s hands without thinking.

“Don’t think for a moment,” Zuko spat. “That I wouldn’t burn this ship and everyone on it. Remove your knife.”

Kelsang stepped back, but didn’t sheathe the knife. Captain Tau laughed.

“Well, this will be interesting!” he said. “I love it when they show a bit of spine, don’t you?”

“As you say, Captain,” Kelsang murmured.

“Go on, tigerfish,” Captain Tau said. “Speak your piece.”

Zuko glared at Kelsang to ensure he wouldn’t sneak up on him so swiftly again, and then faced Captain Tau. Despite the burst of violence, he continued to eat unperturbed. Zuko clenched his fists.

“I won’t be a lowly laborer,” he said.

“Oh, a negotiation!” Captain Tau barked a laugh. “Lovely.”

“I will not be bound to this ship,” Zuko snarled. “I have a higher obligation. But if you won’t release me without some kind of service, then I will fix the balloon for you.”

Captain Tau raised an eyebrow, and took another bite of bird.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“I’m not a mechanic,” Zuko said. “But I know where you can find one: the Southern Raiders.”

“Ludicrous,” Kelsang interjected. Captain Tau shot him a silencing look. “Captain, you can’t be serious! The Bounty can’t go up against a Southern Raider ship on her own! Their hulls are thick iron, and their ballistae would tear us to pieces before we could get close! He’s bluffing.”

Captain Tau glanced at Zuko’s arms. Zuko rubbed them reflexively, trying to hide his marks. They were itchy, but he resisted the urge to scratch them.

“Kelsang’s right,” Captain Tau said. “We can’t fight the Raiders head-on, so if you’re proposing a raid on such a ship—in other words, we’d do the work to pay off your debt—then I will have to respectfully decline.”

“You wouldn’t have to fight,” Zuko said, thinking fast and recalling the assault on Agna Qel’a, how he had infiltrated Zhao’s ship and found a troublesome Water Tribe boy hiding there. “You just need to get me close.”

“And what, sell us out once we do?” Kelsang scoffed. Zuko rounded on him.

“They would sooner throw me in the brig than listen to me tell them about the pirate cowards hiding nearby,” he snapped. “I would gain nothing from treating with them!”

“Hmph.” Kelsang folded his arms.

“What would you do, supposing we magically transported you within spitting distance of a Raider frigate?” Captain Tau asked.

“I would enter the ship and capture their chief engineer,” Zuko said. “The balloon motor is just a smaller, less complex version of a ship engine, which means any ship’s mechanic would be able to repair it.”

“Then why not just grab a mechanic? Why the chief engineer?”

“Because the motor was just a prototype,” Zuko said. “A mechanic could fix it. The engineer could improve on it.”

“This is all nonsense,” Kelsang said.

“No, I don’t think it is,” Captain Tau said, eyes sweeping over Zuko’s arms once again, taking in each of his marks. Counting them. Calculating, no doubt, the lives attributed to each and re-evaluating Zuko based on that result. On the beach, he hadn’t looked at Zuko as anything much. Now, he seemed…intrigued. There was an undertone of eagerness in his voice that made the hairs on Zuko’s neck stand up. “I think when he says he can get us an engineer, he can deliver on that promise. I’ve decided: you will carry out this mission as you have proposed, and should you succeed and repair the balloon we will consider your debt paid and deliver you to our next port of call. You would be free to pursue that higher obligation, and of course any shares you accrue along the way would be yours to keep.”

“Oh, you can’t be serious,” Kelsang said under his breath.

“Shares?” Zuko asked.

“Shares, tigerfish,” Captain Tau said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Any bounty, treasure, booty, or other prizes taken are distributed amongst the crew in equal shares. Once your debt is cleared, you would be free to begin earning shares. Anyway, those are the terms. Do you accept?”

Zuko looked at Kelsang, who glared back at him.

“I accept,” he said.

“Good,” Captain Tau said. “Kelsang, set a course for Whale-potamus Bay, and tell Dhondup I’ll relieve him at the wheel shortly.”

“Aye, Captain,” Kelsang said with a frustrated sigh.

“As for you, tigerfish,” Captain Tau said. “I’m told the good doctor has prescribed rest and recuperation for the next few days before you’re fit to even swab my decks. You’d best see to that if you want to be clear of your debt before the end of this era. And before you give me more attitude, boy, remember that I am the captain and this is my ship. If you cannot follow my orders, then I’ve less use for you than a Gaoling dowager has for a blind, dick-less whore, and will discharge you from my ship forthwith.”

“...fine,” Zuko said, and forced himself to bow respectfully. “I will do as you say.”

“That’s all, then,” Captain Tau said with a wave of his hand.

Zuko hobbled out of Captain Tau’s cabin to find the main deck occupied with a pair of bright yellow tents. The ship was sailing northeast, and it was sunset. Hiranjan loitered nearby, strumming a sitar and singing a melancholy tune.

“Oh, wind on the waves, carry me home! Oh, wind on the waves, my broken heart! Oh, wind on the waves, the firelight dies. Oh, wind on the waves, the fire…dies.”

A woman poked her head out of the nearer tent, an air swirl tattooed on her forehead as well.

“Hey, Hiranjan! Play us a more depressing tune while you’re at it, eh?”

“Pema, darling, you know the performer’s first rule,” he said with a grin. “Give the people what they want!”

He began strumming a jauntier, merrier tune, and Zuko hoped to sneak by him without attracting notice. He was not so lucky.

“Ah! Little tigerfish!”

“Hiranjan,” he said, turning on his heel to face the grinning pirate.

“Off to the baths, are we? Good, good,” he said. “The good doctor did say, after all, that you needed to pay special attention to your cleanliness for the next few days while those tattoos are healing.”

“Oh, is that your new pet?” Pema said, poking her head back out of the tent. Zuko then noticed she was bare from the shoulders up and had soap in her hair. “Oh, I don’t like the look of those mean eyes much.”

Zuko’s glare intensified, which caused her to laugh at him. Heat crept up his cheeks. Hiranjan laughed, and, to Zuko’s horror, got up to come to his rescue.

“Don’t be antagonizing him like that, Pema,” Hiranjan said, throwing an arm around Zuko’s shoulders. Zuko winced. “It’s his first night, let him get used to the place!”

“Like a catgator,” Pema said.

“Just so! Now, if you’ll excuse us,” Hiranjan said, pushing Zuko towards the second tent. “The baths for the gents are in here. Twice a day we set up the tents to give folks a bit of privacy in their customary ablutions.”

Zuko was pushed into the tent, and confronted with a dozen or so bathing men, mostly pirates by their air swirl tattoos, but he saw two of the rowers in the corner, keeping a wary eye on the others. Tubs of water were set out in rows, with the pirates lounging in or around them, chatting. Zuko’s appearance attracted immediate attention.

“Well, as you see,” Hiranjan said, stepping in after him. “Hard to keep anything private! Gentlemen! This little tigerfish is our newest addition to the Bounty . Say hello, and make him feel welcomed!”

Hiranjan elbowed Zuko.

“Go on, say your name, then.”

“Uh, hi,” Zuko said, waving awkwardly and trying not to stare too much at anyone. “I’m Zuko.”

“Lobsang,” a thick-set man lounging in a nearby tub said. “The new rescue? What’s Kelsang decided to do with you?”

“I’m going to fix my balloon,” Zuko said, focusing entirely on Lobsang’s head and shoulders, and nothing else.

“The wreck Salmee found? Good luck,” Lobsang said. He waved at Zuko’s tattoos. “What’s the story there? You seem pretty young for a pirate.”

“None of your business,” Zuko snapped, walking haughtily away.

“As always, Hiranjan, you know how to pick them,” another pirate said, to general laughter. Zuko tuned out the pirate chatter and beelined for the rowers in the corner. They were both Earth Kingdom, and eyed him warily as he approached.

“Are you almost finished?” he asked, teeth gritted.

The two men nodded and quickly vacated the tub. Zuko felt a twinge of guilt—he hadn’t meant to drive them away—but he was feeling dizzy again as he stripped out of his scratchy red shirt and trousers. The water was lukewarm as he lowered himself into it, and filthy from the previous bathers. Zuko sighed.

“Here you are!”

A bar of soap was dropped into the water in front of him as Hiranjan pulled up a stool and took a seat next to the tub. He had a bucket of water, a scrub brush, and a hand towel, but a withering glare was enough to get him to keep his hands to himself.

“Now, make sure that you scrub yourself thoroughly clean,” Hiranjan said. “Don’t use the brush on your marks while they’re fresh: wait until the scabs have fallen off, and even then be gentle. Do clean your scalp, feet, and unmentionables, however, we don’t want to bring any pests aboard that could spread.”

“Thank you, I’ve got it,” Zuko snapped, snatching the brush and the towel away.

“And I’ve taken the liberty of securing you clean attire, as well,” Hiranjan said, indicating a stack of folded clothes next to the stool. “Feel free to avail yourself of them on the conclusion of your ablutionary exercises.”

“...thank you,” Zuko said, picking up the soap and beginning to wash.

“Well, I’ll shove off, then,” Hiranjan said, standing up. “Should you find yourself in need of my assistance further, point your sails in the direction of number eleven, by the quarterdeck. You know which way the quarterdeck is, yes?”

“Of course I do!” Zuko snarled, although neither the Momiji , nor the Setsujoku , nor the Tamushiba had possessed such a deck.

“Excellent! Then I shall bid you good evening, little tigerfish, and good night!”

And with that, Hiranjan departed. None of the other pirates attempted to engage Zuko in conversation, which suited him just fine. He quickly cleaned off as much dirt and sweat as he could, rinsed himself off with the clean water from the bucket, and pulled on the new clothes, eager to be rid of his prison garb. Hiranjan had brought him a pair of white woolen trousers and an open red-orange shirt that clearly needed a belt, which he had not been provided with. It did little to keep out the chill of the evening wind as he stepped out of the tent, and less to cover his marks. He stared at them a moment by the light of the moon and the ship’s lanterns.

His father’s most recent punishment had been particularly cruel. He could sometimes forget about his scar because of how infrequently he looked in a mirror. He could hang on to the hope that he’d restore his honor, return home, and be allowed to grow out his hair again. His mother often remarked how she liked to brush it when he was a small child, and how handsome he would be as an adult. But now, every time he looked at his hands, he could see the bands around his wrists, the dash marks on his arms. Every time he looked down at himself, he could see his chest covered in inked-memorials to the dead—his victims, in the eyes of Fire Nation law.

He couldn’t pretend any longer.

But he also couldn’t show any weakness aboard a ship full of strangers.

So he swallowed his anguish, although it hurt nearly as bad as receiving the marks had. He ran his hand over his shaved head, feeling its smoothness. It had always been a chore, shaving it down before. He could let it grow again. Maybe in a few months his hair would be long enough to cover his camellia. He’d wear a headband or sailor cap in the meantime. He’d find a pair of gloves and stick to long-sleeved shirts. He’d never be royalty again, but perhaps people would see him as respectable.

As someone worthy of their regard.

Not a monster to be feared.

“Every cloud has a silver lining, right Uncle?” he murmured, looking up at the full moon. But the moon’s gaze brought no comfort. “Oh, what do you know? I haven’t failed yet.”

The hammock hold was full when Zuko arrived, and what hushed conversation there was in it fell silent. He saw a mix of men, either Earth Kingdom or Fire Nation, sitting in groups on the floor. A single oil lamp lit the space, although two firebenders kept their circle lit with little wicks of flame. They all stared at Zuko. He grimaced, and drew himself up.

They’re no different than your crew , he thought. Except they won’t obey your commands.

He swept past them without acknowledgement and made his way to his hammock. Before he got halfway there, though, an older Earth Kingdom man stood.

“Wait a moment,” he said. “Your side of the hold is over there.”

“That’s my hammock,” Zuko said, gesturing to the one he had napped in earlier.

“He’s right,” a Fire Nation man said, coming up from behind Zuko. He lacked a topknot, but stood like a soldier. Deserter , Zuko thought. “We sleep on this side. The Earth Kingdom folks sleep over there.”

“When I was in here earlier, Jet said I could use that hammock,” Zuko insisted.

“Jet isn’t in charge of things,” the Fire Nation man said, folding his arms.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Zuko demanded.

“I’m Tatsuya,” the man said. “He’s Cheng. We’re kind of the leaders of the pressed crew.”

“Our job is mostly to make sure fights don’t break out,” Cheng said. “Which is what happens when the nations mix, we’ve found.”

“So we keep to our own,” Tatsuya said. “Which means you’ll stay on this side.”

Zuko looked around at the Fire Nation side of the hold. There were no spare hammocks.

“Then where am I supposed to sleep?”

“There’s space on the floor,” Tatsuya said. “Unless there’s anyone looking for a bunkmate.”

This last he called to the Fire Nation crew at large, some of whom scoffed in disgust.

“There you have it,” Tatsuya said, eyes flicking to Zuko’s camellia. “You get the floor.”

Zuko bared his teeth, but his spike of rage was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“What’s going on here?”

Jet dropped into the hold, hair still wet, his shirt slung over his arm. Zuko got a good look at his lean upper body. He had the chest and back of a climber, and the arms of a swordsman. Jet noticed his ogling, and frowned, but turned his attention towards the two older men.

“Did you tell this young man he could use Ru Xu’s hammock?” Cheng asked sternly.

“Oh come on, it’s not like Ru Xu ever uses it,” Jet scoffed. “What’s the problem with giving it to the new guy?”

“The problem is that he’s Fire Nation, and a firebender to boot,” Cheng said. “Bai Wen heard it from Dawa when she went to serve the captain dinner. The boy threatened to burn the ship to ash.”

“I made a deal with Captain Tau,” Zuko snapped. “I’m not going to burn the ship.”

“Not that you could,” Tatsuya said. “The firefighters here are better than the ones back home. You wouldn’t be the first to try. The bottom line, Jet, is that he’s one of ours.”

Jet’s entire demeanor shifted. His mouth snapped shut, and his eyes narrowed at Zuko. He was glaring at him with a look, not of cautious camaraderie, but of pure hatred. Zuko was taken aback, but hardened his own expression.

“Fine,” he snapped, going back to the ladder out of the hold. “I’ll take the floor.”

He shoved Jet out of the way with his shoulder.

“So much for sticking together,” he said under his breath as he passed.

He didn’t hear if Jet responded, and he didn’t care, stomping off aftward. If he had thought he was going to have any allies among the pressed crew, then it was lucky to be disabused of the notion now rather than later. Hiranjan was more than happy to lend him a hard pillow and a threadbare blanket that was too small to cover him entirely. When he returned, the others had gone to sleep in their hammocks. All except for Jet, who was watching him from the shadows. Zuko sneered and turned his back to him. He found a clear bit of floorspace to lay his pillow and blanket, and then made a valiant effort to fall spitefully asleep.

Chapter Text

The journey from the Patola Mountains to Whalepotamus Bay took a week. A dreary, drizzle-filled week. Clouds moved in and rained fitfully down on the Harvest’s Bounty as it beat its way northeast. It never properly stormed, but still, the ocean was rough. Zuko, who considered himself quite accustomed to life at sea, got seasick for the first time since he was thirteen.

“There, there, let it all out,” Hiranjan said, holding his shoulders gently as he puked over the side into the gray swells. “Let this offering of the contents of your gullet be enough to calm the angry spirits that bedevil us so.”

“Why,” Zuko said, wiping his mouth and glaring up at him. “Would La want my disgusting vomit?”

“Who says it’s La I’m praying to?” Hiranjan said. “‘Tis the winds what drive the waves, and ‘tis to the winds we should be conducting our pious entreaties.”

Another wave of sickness overtook Zuko, although by this point he had little left to bring up other than a trickle of bile. His throat burned from the stomach acid, and he coughed.

“Why do you talk like that?” he asked.

“Like what?” Hiranjan replied.

“You know what I mean!” Zuko snapped. “You use twice as many words as necessary to say anything at all.”

“Oh, does the young pup have his scales scraped by my eloquence, loquaciousness, and otherwise vociferous demeanor?” Hiranjan said, laughing in his face. Zuko scowled.

“Never mind,” he said, and returned to his suffering.

When he was sufficiently recovered, he was put to work. Kelsang outright refused to give him any jobs that exposed him to potential injury (“I can tie a knot!” “Captain wants you recovered for your ‘special mission’ so until then no tops, no knots, no rowing, no swabbing, and stay away from the cargo!”), so he was stuck in one of the holds with a group of women and some of the younger men from the pressed crew and told to sew. 

He spent hours repairing clothing and sailcloth. It was difficult, tedious work, and he pricked his fingers so many times that by the end of the day he could no longer feel them. When he got blood on any of the garments as a result of his clumsy needlework, he was made to wash it immediately before the stain set. Worst of all, Ravi, the sailmaker, who was a severe, middle-aged man with dark, spotted skin and gray eyes, was able to find fault with every single line he stitched, and would force Zuko to undo all of his hard work in order to fix it. Zuko’s anger and frustration grew by the hour. But the sewers gossipped, and so his time spent among them wasn’t a total loss.

“I don’t like whalepotamuses at all, they’re too big and nasty!”

“Don’t fuss, there hasn’t been a whalepotamus sighted at Whalepotamus Bay in years, not since the last Water Tribe raids.”

“What happened to them?”

“Fire Nation whalers drove them out, and then nobody could go near the place.”

Zuko hissed as he stabbed his finger for the fifteenth time that morning. He sat apart from the lively group of Earth Kingdom ladies with the more subdued Fire Nation pressed crew: two women named Yumi and Sakura, and a young man named Katsuro who was barely past his majority. Katsuro leaned in to the others.

“I heard the Southern Fleet did training exercises at Whalepotamus Bay, and that’s why the pirates were driven out.”

“Katsuro, be silent,” Yumi hissed.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, looking down, abashed.

Yumi shook her head at him, and then shot Zuko a contemptuous glare. She and Sakura both silently shifted their shoulders to block Zuko from being able to speak to Katsuro. He didn’t have to guess why. His forehead itched. If he scratched at it, however, someone would tell Hiranjan, who would kick up a fuss, so he turned his attention back to the gossiping women across the hold.

“So why are we going there now?”

“Because that daft ape man, Commander Cho or whatever, pulled the whole Southern Fleet out and then got eaten by shark tigers. So the bay’s up for the taking.”

“Is that where they’re taking us for the winter?”

“Don’t ask questions nobody here can answer.”

“Ru Xu could answer them.”

“Ru Xu’s a whore, and I hope he rots.”

“Don’t let Kelsang hear you talking like that.”

When it was time for dinner, the pirates ate wherever they pleased, and the pressed crew were corralled back into their holds with pots of gruel and dried fruit. Zuko missed the Cook at every meal, because even on those occasions where the Momiji or Setsujoku had been on strict rations he’d still managed to put some actual flavor into the food. He was even nostalgic for the meals he got while waiting in Fire Nation jail, which at least had an interesting texture. The gruel was bland paste. He could barely stomach it.

The other Fire Nation pressed crewmen didn’t generally associate with him, so he sat by the dividing line with the Earth Kingdom pressed crewmen. Because of Jet’s pariah status, he was often shoved over next to Zuko, and spent the entire meal furiously ignoring him. This suited Zuko just fine: he had his own plans to make, and he didn’t want to waste energy on some sulky kid. Sometimes people would come and go, most often Ru Xu at dinner time. His departure would spark waves of cruel jokes and mocking speculation: what position would Kelsang have him in tonight? Was he cavernous from all the plowing, or was Kelsang unusually small? When were they going to move him over to the women’s cabin?

Although he wasn’t the target, such comments made Zuko’s blood (and sometimes his gruel) boil. It was further proof that he truly had no allies, actual or potential, and that he needed to escape at the first opportunity.

“This is stone cold,” Jet grumbled, taking a bite of gruel.

“Here,” Zuko said, shoving his nearly-scalding bowl at him and standing up. “I’m full.”

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Tatsuya called.

Zuko ignored him, climbing the ladder out of the hold. The evening air was full of laughter and the smell of cooking fish from an aftward brazier. His stomach growled, but he wasn’t ready to start begging for scraps. He wandered up to the bow and found an out-of-the-way nook to hide in.

Then, only once he was sure nobody could see him, did he let a few silent tears roll down. A few became a stream, but at least he could control his breathing to hold back the sobs. It was enough to release just a little of his grief. It had to be enough.

“Hey.”

He looked up sharply to see Jet standing nearby holding a bowl of gruel. The other boy had the good grace to look awkwardly away.

“What do you want?” Zuko said, wiping his eyes.

“Hiranjan came looking for you,” Jet said. “He wasn’t happy you tried to skip dinner.”

“And? Did he send you to find me?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Jet snapped back. “Are you going to finish your food or not?”

Zuko got to his feet and snatched his bowl out of Jet’s hands. He threw the contents over the side contemptuously.

“Does that answer your question?” he growled. “Now leave me alone.”

“Fine by me,” Jet said, and turned to walk away.

“I can see why everyone hates you,” Zuko said, his frustrations finally boiling over. “You’re a two-faced liar.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Jet snarled, turning on his heels.

“Then enlighten me!” Zuko said, throwing out his arms. “I’m all ears.”

“Alright, you want to know about me? I’m nothing! I have nothing!” Jet spun back around, advancing on Zuko. Zuko stood his ground. “ Your people took everything from me: my home , my family , my friends . It was firebenders that sold me into slavery!”

“Oh, open your eyes!” Zuko yelled, and then pointed at his forehead. “You think you’re special because you lost everything to the Fire Nation? So did I! ”

They glared at each other, the wind off the sea cold. Finally, Jet turned aside.

“Neither of us are here because we want to be,” Zuko growled. “You were the one who said the only way we survive is by sticking together.”

“I will never be allies with a firebender,” Jet said. “Never.”

Zuko later snuck over to the pirate tents when his hunger pangs got too much and stole a stick of braised fish. They didn’t catch him that night, but the next night he wasn’t as lucky. Instead of flogging his back, they whipped his legs, which made sitting in the sewing hold even more painfully aggravating than it was already.

“There she is, little tigerfish,” Hiranjan said, throwing an arm over Zuko’s shoulders and gesturing to the approaching island. “Whalepotamus Bay! Your crucible, your training ground, your new home away from home!”

“Don’t touch me,” Zuko growled, smacking his arm away. His tattoos had mostly healed, so it wasn’t because of a sudden stinging pain. It was the principle that mattered. “Never lay your hands on me like that again.”

“Ha! You’ve the manners of a colic catgator, but the refined words of a Gaoling courtesan,” Hiranjan said. “Your mystery deepens with each passing hour.”

Zuko groaned. Why was he cursed by this man’s attention?

“What idiocy are you planning?” he demanded.

“Idiocy! My little tigerfish, I am going to be teaching you how to survive what’s to come,” Hiranjan said. He pointed up to the tops of the mainmast. “Fix your eyes above and see.”

Zuko looked up, and then his eyes popped. Three pirates stood on one of the spars of the mainmast holding gliders in their hands. He’d recognize them anywhere, for he’d seen the Avatar flying on a similar contraption. These were bigger, however, and seemed heavier. As he watched, the first pirate ran along the spar and jumped, spreading the glider’s wings. He fell gently towards the sea before banking sharply left and rising up, up, and up on a wide, spiraling path. The next pirate followed, aiming for the same apparent updraft, and then the third. When all three had risen to sufficient height, they turned towards the island.

“They’re flying!” Zuko exclaimed.

“Well, not as such,” Hiranjan said. “They’re gliding. Our ancestors watched the Air Nomads of old as they danced across the clouds, and learned something of their craft. We carry on that tradition, and it’s that tradition which I have been entrusted to pass on to you, little tigerfish.”

“I’m going to learn that?” Zuko asked, pointing at the gliders. “How?”

“The same way we all learn,” Hiranjan said. “Trial and error, success and failure.”

Zuko was hardly listening. He watched the gliders as they came to land on the distant cliffs overlooking Whalepotamus Bay. The island wrapped around nearly two-thirds of a wide stretch of water, which was calm under the current conditions. He could see sandy beaches, and green forests further inland, but overall it didn’t seem like there was much of anything going on.

He closed his eyes to think. His Uncle might’ve said to wait and listen, that there were unexpected discoveries to be found everywhere. Captain Jee might’ve given a more utilitarian assessment of the place, something like how forests might mean game to be hunted or fruits to be harvested. And it was obvious Whalepotamus Bay would have an abundance of fish.

Zuko opened his eyes, and addressed Hiranjan, who had been rambling about something inane.

“Okay,” he said. “What do I do first?”

“Didja not hear?” Hiranjan said. “Why, I was about to fear for the integrity of my tongue, so long was I flapping it to no apparent avail. First, little tigerfish, you’ll build yourself a glider of your very own. Then, you’ll learn how to fly it.”

“And you’ll teach me how to do that?” Zuko asked.

“Why, of course!” Hiranjan said. “Passing on the wisdom of the past is one of my great and multitudinous passions.”

“Did you teach Jet how to do this?” Zuko asked, turning to face him properly. Hiranjan sighed.

“No,” he admitted. “Our little cuttlepine didn’t get the chance. And now, I fear, he’s beyond teaching. Sorry if you were hoping for a friend in class, but like it or not, you’re stuck with me. Now, let’s go reserve our spot on the longboat, eh?”

They managed to get a spot on the second longboat to go ashore, carrying provisions for camping and other sundries. The first longboat brought a scouting party to clear patches for the pirates to pitch their tents with adequate shelter and access to fresh water. All of this was lost on Zuko, who was enduring murderous looks from the other pressed crew. He had not been required to help pack or unpack anything.

“Enjoy the preferential treatment while it lasts,” Tatsuya said, patting him hard on the shoulder.

“I can take care of myself,” Zuko spat back.

“Then a word to the wise,” Tatsuya said, leaning in. “Sleep with your good eye open.”

Once he was ashore, Hiranjan grabbed a pair of machetes from a box and led them towards the forest.

“Shouldn’t we help with the campsite?” Zuko asked, watching a group of pirates and pressed crew raise a marquee nearby.

“Salmee has it handled, spirits bless her, and she’ll thank us both to stay out of the way,” Hiranjan said. “Besides, our task is no less taxing of the limbs and withers than theirs. Don’t be so quick to wish another’s labors for yourself, little tigerfish.”

“I assume,” Zuko said, following Hiranjan as he climbed nimbly over roots and rocks, “that we’ll be cutting wood.”

“I swear, nothing escapes your eyes, does it?” Hiranjan guffawed. “We are indeed in charge of the woodcutting. Not just us, you see, but as you’ve got to find yourself a piece for your glider, we’re the first team to go. Now.”

Hiranjan handed him a machete.

“These are good for cutting through plants, branches, and small trees. You will not be swinging it at these big ‘uns, understand?” He demonstrated each case with a swing of his own, stopping just short of planting the blade into the bark of a thick jungle tree nearby. Zuko nodded. “We don’t have too many, so you’ll be taking good care of that one, and pray it neither breaks nor bends as a result of your labors.”

“I can swing a sword,” Zuko said, taking a few experimental swings with the machete.

“Perhaps, but this isn’t a fancy duel. There’ll be no finesse here, just pure strength and a true aim,” Hiranjan said, chopping as he walked. “Follow my lead, and cut a swath through the forest. Those who follow will carry it back to camp. Grasses and plants for fire starters, herbs, and medicines; branches and saplings for fires, tools, and minor repair work.”

“What if we need more wood?” Zuko asked, eyeing the bigger trees.

“Salmee has an axe crew,” Hiranjan said, without pause. “If there’s need, she’ll muster ‘em, no worry or fuss on your part.”

“What kind of wood do I need for the glider?” Zuko asked. Chopping plants and saplings was not as easy as he had assumed. His shoulders and back were becoming sore already.

“Something light, but strong,” Hiranjan said. “It has to be able to hold you without breaking, but if it’s too heavy you’ll plummet right into the sea.”

Zuko nodded as if that made sense to him, and began focusing on the small trees and saplings.

“What about this one?” he asked, cutting down a sapling that was just a bit taller than he was.

“How many swings did that one take to fell?” Hiranjan asked.

“Just one,” Zuko said.

“Too weak! Move on.”

And so it went: Zuko cut down all the saplings and grasses he could, while taking discreet breaks to switch hands or stretch when Hiranjan—who managed to chop and cut continuously without stopping—wasn’t looking, and Hiranjan would reject all of his candidates for glider wood. They were too short. They were too weak. They were the wrong shape. They had some plant malady that Zuko was sure was made up, but which Hiranjan swore up and down would give him a glider that would snap in half suddenly and kill him.

At midday, they finally stopped. Hiranjan collected some fruit growing nearby and tossed them to Zuko. He didn’t recognize what they were, but devoured each one quickly. Hiranjan then handed him some seal jerky.

“It’s good you’ve an appetite after the morning’s labors,” Hiranjan said, tearing into the jerky. “We’ll rest here a spell and then start collecting.”

“I still haven’t found wood for my glider, though,” Zuko said.

“Well, if you’ve a mind to continue searching, I won’t stop you,” Hiranjan said, lounging against a tree root with his arms behind his head. “We’ve done enough work for now. There’s no rush. Why not relax and enjoy the scenery?”

Zuko looked at him with unmitigated disgust. Relax? Rest? Now? When he had the chance to expedite his escape? It was out of the question. Still, he knew his Uncle would chide him for not taking a break, and his arms were very tired. He threw himself down on a pile of freshly-cut grass, folding his hands over his belly and forcing his eyes closed. The noises of the forest—chirping birds, buzzing insects, the distant crash of waves—surrounded him. If he let his mind wander, it almost took him back…

“Ay-up! Rise and shine, little tiger fish!”

Zuko sat up with a start. It was still daylight, but the sun had shifted. Afternoon sunbeams fell through the forest canopy. Hiranjan stood over him grinning widely, machete on his shoulder, hands stained green.

“You’re in luck,” he said, offering Zuko a gross, slimy hand. Zuko batted it away and stood, brushing off bits of grass from his clothes. His own state was hardly better, and he needed a bath.

“What?” he demanded.

“I’ve found a copse just over there,” Hiranjan gestured somewhere to his left. “We might find you some glider wood before sundown.”

Zuko followed him to an area where dozens of young, green saplings were reaching up to a hole in the canopy. Scuffing the ground, Zuko found traces of old ash.

“There was a fire here,” he said.

“So it seems, so it seems,” Hiranjan said. “Good for new growth, fires. Gets rid of the old deadwood and gives a new generation of trees and plants a chance to flourish. Now, get to cutting!”

Zuko rolled his eyes—this kind of pseudo-philosophizing is what he would’ve expected of Uncle, and he didn’t enjoy it any better coming from this irritating pirate—and began to hack at the trees. After felling around a dozen, Hiranjan stopped him. He picked up a particularly long, straight sapling trunk and said, “Now this, my little tiger fish, this we can work with. Take those three, as well, just in case. One always needs backups! In fact…”

He proceeded to load up Zuko’s arms with most of the saplings he had cut down. Zuko didn’t have any trouble with the weight, but they were cumbersome and difficult to maneuver with.

“Why do I need this many?” he demanded.

“I’ve seen your needlework,” Hiranjan said. “And let’s just say that it would not go amiss to prepare in advance for the mistakes which may inevitably occur in the course of events.”

Zuko grimaced, but said nothing. He ended up dragging the bundle out of the forest and into the encampment, which had been transformed from a sheltered field of island grasses and sparse trees into a small tent city on a carpet of tamped down foliage. He heard shouting from the beach, and looked over to see the pressed crew hauling the Harvest’s Bounty onto the beach.

“What are they doing?” he asked.

“Beaching her, and high time, too,” Hiranjan said. “You see, little barnacles and crabs like to—”

“I don’t care,” Zuko said, turning away from the man and dragging his stack of trees with him.

“Shame! A little curiosity goes a long way, little tiger fish,” Hiranjan said, all but skipping after him. “And where do you think you’re taking these, eh?”

“To my—” Zuko said, and then stopped. He had assumed he would have a tent, but suddenly questioned whether that would be the case. He was pressed crew, now, not a prince waited on by a loyal following. Was he supposed to provide for his own shelter? Would he be in a communal tent?

“Your…?”

“Fine,” he snapped. “I don’t know. Where am I supposed to sleep in all this?”

“Good question! I’m sure we can find out later,” Hiranjan said. “Lay those over to the side, and follow me. I’ve one more thing to show you before we call it a day and ready ourselves for supper.”

Zuko huffed, but did as instructed. Hiranjan led him out of the campsite and up the hill to a cliff overlooking the wide bay. If Zuko turned around, he could see the ocean on the other side of the island easily enough—it wasn’t wide at all, at least here. Hiranjan reached down and plucked a feather out of the grass.

“See this? Do you know what it is?”

“A feather,” Zuko said.

“Well, yes, but what kind of feather?” Hiranjan asked, mildly exasperated.

“I don’t know,” Zuko said. “A salmon gull feather?”

“Good guess, but no,” Hiranjan said. “This belongs to one of the petrel family! Not sure which, if I’m being fully honest. But it doesn’t matter. It’s ideal for the demonstration.”

“What demonstration?” Zuko asked, irritation rising. He was tired, he was hungry again, and Hiranjan was still the most annoying person he’d met in a while. The old pirate grinned, waited for the wind to pick up, and then released the feather.

It drifted, sometimes up, sometimes down. It spun as it found little whorls of air. It turned and flipped on the breeze, its path never so much straight as winding and chaotic. Finally, it was too far to see clearly.

“The wind is its own master,” Hiranjan said. “It goes hither and thither, nearer and yonder, and no force of nature can alter its course. The old Air Nomads could direct it, but even they knew that to try and stop the wind was folly. To ride the wind, you must know that you cannot control it. You can only follow where it leads. There are tricks, of course, to putting yourself in the right place to land where you’re needed, but those are just tricks, nothing more. If the wind sees fit to drown you at sea, then that is your lot. If it sees fit to carry you up to the clouds… then you have Fate’s blessing.”

Zuko, who had been ready to dismiss this rambling out of hand, looked out over the water contemplating. The wind had carried his balloon, not to Omashu, but all the way to the Patola Mountains, despite his attempts to alter its course. Air was an element like all the others: worthy of respect, with its own rules and powers.

“Wisdom in unlikely places,” he said under his breath.

“What’s that?” Hiranjan asked.

“Nothing,” Zuko said. “I understand. I think I’m ready to learn.”

“We’ll see about that!” Hiranjan laughed, clapping him on the shoulder once again and earning himself another snarl. “Come on, little tiger fish. I’m famished!”

The fading southern summer heat brought foul weather to Whalepotamus Bay, but every squall that blew up was interspersed with clear skies and sunshine. Zuko settled into a routine of sorts: in the morning, he would go out with a work crew into the forests to cut trees and forage food, which the women of the pressed crew would collect for drying; when he was finished, Hiranjan would spirit him away somewhere with tools and sailcloth to work on his glider. It was a surprisingly complex process, but not in the end very time-consuming. The problem was that Zuko was realizing just how bad he was at working with his hands.

“Well, as the old adage postulates,” Hiranjan said, looking over Zuko’s latest attempt. “Fifth time’s the charm.”

“What am I doing wrong!?” Zuko’s frustration erupted, and he threw down his tools.

“Shall I tell you in detail?” Hiranjan asked. “Or shall we just start again from the beginning?”

Zuko snatched his glider back and began taking it apart. At least it didn’t require a lot of skill to destroy something.

After three days of this, he finally had a glider that Hiranjan declared passable.

“We won’t be having you diving off any mountains with this, but it’ll take you down some gentle slopes,” he said, looking it over.

The glider resembled the Avatar’s, except that the sailcloth folds were thicker than whatever Aang’s was made of, requiring that the wings be both larger and wider. That made the staff heavy and cumbersome. Still, it was exciting to make progress, and Zuko wanted to try it out immediately.

“Not so fast, little tigerfish,” Hiranjan said. He licked his finger and held it up. “The wind’s poor. You won’t so much glide as plummet. Better wait for more favorable conditions.”

“I don’t have time to wait!” Zuko yelled. “Teach me to fly! Now!”

Hiranjan simply raised a bemused eyebrow.

“I will not,” he said, and then shook his head. “You forget my lessons so quickly, one almost begins to imagine that you’re not actually harkening to my words. Throw yourself off a hill if you want, but when you come crawling back to the campsite with a broken ankle—or worse!—then you’ll know it was old Hiranjan who warned you, and how will you accomplish your little mission then?”

Zuko growled in anger, snatched up his glider, and stomped out of the forest to find a suitable hill. A dune on the far shore was high enough to serve his purpose, so he clambered to the top and opened the glider’s wings. He wasn’t so foolish as to ignore the wind entirely, so he waited for a strong breeze to blow up. Gripping the wings by their crossbars, he ran to the edge of the dune and jumped. For a brief moment, his feet left the ground and he drifted forward. But then the tail of his glider went up, and he went down. The side of the dune gave way under his feet, and he tumbled. He came to a stop in a heap of limbs and glider, and to his dismay he discovered that his fall had damaged it.

“Augh!”

He threw it aside and sat there, weeping bitterly.

Hiranjan was waiting for him at the edge of camp, sitting on a rock with two bowls of fish soup. He didn’t look surprised by Zuko’s disheveled appearance, nor by the state of his glider.

“Go on,” Zuko said, tossing the broken glider down. “Say it.”

“Say what, perchance?” Hiranjan asked.

“You were right,” Zuko said. “Say you were right, and I should’ve listened, and you’re so wise and I’m just…just an idiot who can’t ever do anything right.”

Hiranjan took a long sip of his soup.

“Well? What are you waiting for!” Zuko demanded.

“It seems to me I’ve already said all of that,” Hiranjan said. “And if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my many attempts to teach you it’s that you’re a stubborn little fish, and whether or not you listen or learn anything from me is entirely up to you. Besides, this is good soup. Would you care for some?”

Zuko’s fist curled—what had he really expected here? For Hiranjan to scold him? Offer him comfort? He wasn’t his father, or Uncle, or even someone Zuko particularly respected. Quite the opposite. So he relaxed his shoulders, sighed, and picked up the fish soup. It was terrible.

“Are you uninjured?” Hiranjan asked.

“I think so,” Zuko said, checking himself briefly.

“Then here’s what we’ll do,” Hiranjan said, finishing off his soup and belching. Zuko wrinkled his nose. Hiranjan nudged the glider with his toe. “We’ll fix this, and I’ll show you some basics that don’t require you to attempt a liftoff. Then the next time you go gallivanting off against my advice and better judgment, you’ll be less likely to break it. What say you to that arrangement?”

“Fine,” Zuko said. “We’ll do it your way.”

Tatsuya’s advice to Zuko proved prescient, but unnecessary. Zuko trusted none of these people, and slept as far away from the rest of the pressed crew as he could. The men were all crowded under an open marquee while the women were permitted a closed tent. The pressed crew were told to make cots or sleep on the ground, so Zuko of course had to deal with rocks sticking in his back when he rolled over in his sleep. His bitterness at his own incompetence compounded.

Every night, someone made an attempt on him.

The first night at camp, he awoke to the sound of footsteps on sand, and sat up in time to dodge a large rock being dropped on his head. His assailant escaped before he could untangle his legs and give pursuit, fists aflame. The pirate on nightwatch duty took him to Kelsang, who had his legs whipped for firebending. He didn’t sleep again, but his attacker didn’t reappear.

The second evening, he found his blanket had been covered in mud and waste. He had to wash and dry it himself—at least he could use his firebending for that task without the pirates overreacting—and by the time he was finished it was well past midnight.

The third evening, Jet surprised him.

He woke up as a hand clamped over his mouth. He heard Jet’s voice out of the dark.

“Shh! We have to talk.”

Zuko punched him in the head.

Jet staggered back, and Zuko was on his feet. He didn’t use his bending, but only because he didn’t want to deal with the pirates again. Jet growled, and tackled Zuko to the ground. In the darkness they scuffled until Jet had him pinned.

“Would you stop? I’m trying to help you!”

“Get off of me!”

Zuko flipped them both around, finding Jet’s arm and twisting it.

“Ow! Ow! Stop!”

“Had enough yet?” Zuko growled at him, twisting harder.

“Fine! Yes! Enough! Uncle! Uncle!” Jet cried out. Zuko let him go.

“Get out of my sight,” Zuko snapped.

Jet stood, rubbing his arm and shoulder. Zuko heard a popping noise, and Jet grimaced.

“Alright, don’t listen to me. See what happens when Hiranjan finally turns on you,” Jet said, rolling his injured shoulder.

“What do you mean?” Zuko demanded.

“I thought you wanted me to get out of your sight,” Jet retorted. Zuko clicked his tongue and folded his arms.

“Speak,” he ordered. “This had better be worth it.”

“You know you can’t trust Hiranjan,” Jet said. “Whatever it is you’re planning to do, he’s going to rat you out.”

“I’m not planning anything,” Zuko instinctively replied.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Jet snapped back. “I see that look in your eyes. Everyone else thinks you’re just kissing up so you’ll get better treatment, but I know what you’re trying to do: you want to escape.”

“So?” There wasn’t any point denying it. Jet didn’t know his plan, and nobody trusted him anyway.

“I was just like you,” Jet said. “Hiranjan immediately took an interest in me, and I let my guard down. I don’t know why they didn’t just kill me. I guess they enjoy breaking us more.”

“What was your plan?” Zuko asked.

“Mutiny,” Jet said. “Get the pressed crew to rise up, with the help of some of the more sympathetic pirates. Free us all from this ridiculous situation. We were all punished for it.”

“So that’s why everyone hates you,” Zuko said.

“It was my idea,” Jet replied. “So whatever it is you’re planning to do, you’ll have to do it alone. And Hiranjan can never know. He acts dumb and friendly, but he’s not.”

Zuko pondered Jet’s words. Jet interpreted the silence as the end of the conversation and turned to go.

“You’re the one who told me,” Zuko said. Jet stopped. “That sticking together was how we survive this. Neither of us has any friends or allies.”

Jet turned, sneering.

“You’re still an ashmaker,” he said.

“And you’re still a slave,” Zuko countered. “We can help each other.”

Jet was quiet for a long while.

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

Zuko and Hiranjan stood at the top of a tall hill some distance away from the encampment. There were a few scrub bushes and small trees, but the rest was tall grasses ideal for their purposes. Hiranjan stuck his finger in his mouth, and then held it up to the sky.

“We’re in luck, little tiger fish! The wind favors us today,” he said. 

Zuko readied his glider, crouching down with the wings open over his shoulders and head, hands braced on the crossbars. He nodded to Hiranjan, who stroked his chin in contemplation of the breeze.

“Now!” he cried as a particularly strong gust kicked up.

Zuko ran for the edge of the hill and jumped. His legs swung forward, pulling the nose of the glider up as the land fell away. With a grunt, he pulled them back in, almost curling up in a ball before extending them back towards the tail. The position was uncomfortable and tense, but the glider’s path leveled out.

“I’m doing it,” he yelled. “I’m doing it!”

“Just bring her down gently!” Hiranjan called.

The glider descended quicker than Zuko was expecting. As the ground came up, he dropped his legs and began to cycle his feet like he was running. He landed on the grass some distance from the top of the hill, carried forward by his momentum. The wind picked up his glider by the tail, and he fell gracelessly trying to keep it from blowing away. When he got it under control, he looked back up at Hiranjan.

He couldn’t help himself. He grinned, laughing from the rush. It felt strange and unfamiliar, but in a way that excited him.

He trudged back up the hill to where Hiranjan stood, arms folded and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. They stared each other down a moment before bursting out laughing again.

“Not bad, little tigerfish! Not bad at all!” Hiranjan said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” Zuko said, swatting it away. “I’m ready for the next hill.”

“The darkest depths of the seas, you are!” Hiranjan said. Zuko’s smile fell. “That was a warm-up, my moray fish with a death wish! A prologue of many flights and falls yet to come!”

“But I flew and landed without any problems!”

“That’s not what I saw,” Hiranjan said, picking some wax out of his ears.

“That doesn’t matter! I landed, and nothing’s broken!” Zuko shouted.

“You think you have that time to waste going toe to toe with the Southern Raiders?” Hiranjan raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Come now, you’ve got your feet aired, let’s get you ready to really fly.”

Grumbling, Zuko acquiesced to the next lesson: testing the wind for a good breeze. He flew from the hilltop several more times, gradually getting the hang of the landing. By sunset, he could land atop a rock without falling off, and when he went to bed he was almost too sore to fight off his nightly attacker—one of the women, this time, trying to frame him for theft.

Several days later, they stood atop a cliff overlooking Whalepotamus Bay. The Harvest’s Bounty was anchored out in the middle, waiting to receive the fishing boats it had sent out in the early morning. Hiranjan stood back as Zuko tested the wind. He licked his finger and held it up, waiting for the breeze to shift out over the water. Then, he released a feather, watching it dance in the whorls until it was out of sight. Hiranjan nodded in approval.

“This is your last test, little tigershark,” he said. “Over the seas, great upward gusts form that you can ride to keep out of the greedy grasp of La’s fingers. All you need to do is land on the Bounty . You’ll try as many times as you need, but the good captain is becoming impatient. I told him you were ready, so don’t make a liar out of me, understand?”

“I don’t plan on making a mistake,” Zuko retorted.

“Remember, watch the birds,” Hiranjan said.

“I got it, windbag!” Zuko snapped.

He tested the wind once more, and when he was confident the direction was right he ran for the cliff’s edge and jumped.

His stomach dropped with the land, and he curled his legs back to stabilize his flight path. The wind held him aloft for a moment before his weight pulled him down towards the waves. He cast about for an updraft, or the sight of circling birds, and spotted a flock of flying petrel fish flapping some distance away. He banked towards them—they were about a third of the way towards the Bounty . If he could gain enough altitude, he might not need to go looking for another.

He approached, and the wind changed, blowing from the side. He missed the first pass, but banked quickly before he exited the updraft. A flying petrel fish narrowly missed him as it flew by. Angling the nose of his glider up, he climbed the updraft, circling it two or three times before looking around for the Bounty again.

The water below him frothed suddenly. He looked down as an enormous whalepotamus burst forth. It had a wide snout, a gaping maw with four long sharp teeth, and a pair of beady, hate-filled eyes. It snapped at the flying petrel fish before splashing back down into the water.

Zuko quickly banked up and then out away from the whalepotamus and towards the ship. The Bounty , however, was hastily pulling up its anchor and unfurling its sails as, further out to sea, several spouts of water appeared, signaling the arrival of the rest of the pod. There were more than a dozen, all converging on the bay. Zuko had a moment of indecision: did he try to go for the ship, or did he turn and make a run for the beach?

He nearly paid for the pause as the whalepotamus breached again, aiming right for him.

With a quick twist, he turned aside just in time to avoid its maw. The ship was moving, and the pod was getting closer. He’d have to make a run for the beach. He pulled up on the glider, trying to gain a little bit of altitude as the beast splashed down in the water again. There was another updraft between himself and the ship that might give him the height he needed to reach the shore. He aimed towards it, glancing between his destination and the water below, looking for the whalepotamus.

He saw its behemoth body trailing after him. Its two flippers were thick and ended in a set of four wide toes. It dove down as he approached the updraft, birds squawking in protest as he flew through them. He banked right just in time for the whalepotamus’s third attack. Unfortunately, he lost control of the glider and dropped sickeningly towards the water. Distantly, the Bounty began to sail away, ahead of the pod’s arrival. Zuko’s feet were splashed by seafoam as he pulled the glider back up; unfortunately, the beast struck again.

It breached in front of him. He pulled up, but hit it right on its snout. His scrabbling hand found purchase on the nostril. The beast roared in protest, but Zuko’s mind was racing. He needed height. He needed to get away. When the whalepotamus began to fall back towards the sea, he jumped, desperately angling the glider away in the hope that he could still catch a breeze and make it to shore.

The updraft picked him up, and he managed to get out of the beast’s range. Pointing himself back towards the island, he flew as straight a course as he could. The whalepotamus seemed to lose interest, but even so he did not let his guard down. He splashed among the rolling waves, well short of the shore, but close enough for him to swim the rest of the way. Zuko reached the sand and ran until he found grass. He collapsed on the ground, breathing hard. A few pirates and pressed crew ran towards him, weapons to hand. At the head of the pack he saw Jet.

“Behind you!” he shouted, sprinting forward to stand between Zuko and the new threat.

Zuko turned. To his horror, the whalepotamus had crawled up out of the water on its two flippers. It loomed over the beach, as tall as an ostrich horse but thick with blubber and muscle. His glider had washed up on the beach nearby. Before either of them could react, the whalepotamus raised a flipper and then smashed the glider to pieces. Picking up the canvas in its mouth, it shook the remains back and forth several times. When it was satisfied with the carnage it had inflicted, it crawled back into the bay to join the rest of its pod.

“Are you okay?” Jet asked, relaxing slightly. He held a machete in two hands, but to Zuko’s eye his stance looked unnatural, like he was used to holding different weapons.

“Yeah,” Zuko said. “Why did it smash the glider?”

“Be glad that’s all it was after,” Jet said grimly, holding out a hand to help him up. Zuko took it, and a moment of understanding passed between them.

“Move your carcasses!” Salmee, the boatswain, charged up. “We’re breaking camp and moving to the far shore.”

They both nodded and joined the work crews. It took the better part of an hour to take down the marquees and tents and gather up all the supplies, the occasional bellow of a whalepotamus causing everyone to jump. They trekked across the isle and through the jungle to a smaller sheltered cove. Salmee looked around and declared it adequate, ordering clearings made for the tents. An ax was thrust into Zuko’s hands, and he was sent back into the forest to fell trees, yet another task he discovered he was ill-suited for. Hiranjan had not reappeared to rescue him, so he found himself chopping next to Jet out of fear that someone might take the opportunity to finally kill him.

Their silence was thick in the air.

“Thank you,” Zuko said at last.

“Don’t mention it,” Jet replied.

Hiranjan finally found him as he was standing in line for gruel.

“Little tigerfish! A proper harrier at sea!” he crowed, throwing an arm over Zuko’s shoulders. Zuko ducked and almost threw him into the pot of gruel, but Hiranjan anticipated the move and he ended up in a headlock. “Now, now, don’t go and lay harm on your old mentor.”

“I never asked for your mentorship!” Zuko snapped, tired, hungry, and mentally preparing to once again fight for his right to sleep through the night.

“But you surely benefited from it. I saw how you flew! It was less graceful than an eagletross on the wind, but certainly an impressive feat for such a short tutelage. Why, it almost makes me cry the tears of a proud father, seeing his child take wing and—”

Zuko stomped on his foot as hard as he could. Hiranjan yelped in pain and released him. He thrust a finger in the old pirate’s face.

“Do not ever speak to me like a father again,” he snarled. “I no longer have one, and I no longer need one.”

Hiranjan put up his hands in surrender. Zuko was no longer hungry, and stomped away from the food line.

“Ah, before you strut off in a huff,” Hiranjan called. “Captain wants to see you.”

Zuko stopped. He felt the eyes of everyone around him on his back. He looked over to see Jet staring hard at him.

“Alright,” Zuko said as Hiranjan limped over with a bowl of gruel.

“Eat first,” he insisted. “No use going into the lion’s den without a full belly and a stuffed gizzard.”

Zuko snatched the bowl away and sat down by the fire to eat, Hiranjan hovering over him to ensure he could eat quickly and in peace. When he was done, they took the longboat over to the Harvest’s Bounty , anchored at the mouth of the cove.

“Well, well, well.” Captain Tau was just finishing his dinner when Zuko came in. His cabin had been rearranged slightly—different treasures were out, others had been put away—but it was still the gaudy, cluttered mess that it was on their first meeting. Kelsang stood in the periphery, ready to jump to his captain’s orders. Captain Tau belched, wiped his mouth with a white kerchief, and tossed it aside. “That was an impressive flight, little tigerfish. Very impressive. One might say you were born for the skies.”

“I was almost eaten by a whalepotamus,” Zuko snapped, not in the mood for Captain Tau’s dry humor. “I thought they’d all disappeared!”

“The whalepotamus is a migratory beast,” Captain Tau said. “Since the whalers no longer come here, it would seem they deemed it safe to return.”

“And why did it attack me?”

“Fearsomely aggressive creatures, whalepotamuses,” Captain Tau said. He took a gulp of wine, splashing a few drops down his front. “Not the best eyesight, but they notice color and movement, and you, little tigerfish, looked just like a predator to them.”

He wiped his mouth.

“Lucky for you, Hiranjan has a spare glider, and has magnanimously offered it for your use,” he went on. “Tomorrow, we’ll set sail for Kamui’s Rock. You’ll be there a week. Kelsang will ensure you’ve supplies, but you should prepare to get your own food and water. You can fish, can’t you, boy?”

“Of course I can,” Zuko said. He couldn’t, but he imagined it wouldn't be hard to figure out if uneducated pirates could do it. Plus, he had seen his Uncle fish from piers at many ports of call over the years. Captain Tau merely raised an eyebrow.

“After a week, we’ll pick you up,” he said. “If you don’t have your engineer by then, the deal’s off.”

“Wait, how am I supposed to get the engineer from some rock?” Zuko demanded.

“It’s your plan, boy,” Captain Tau retorted. “Kamui’s Rock happens to be along one of the Southern Raider’s main patrol routes. It shouldn’t take long for you to spot one of their ships.”

Zuko glared, but swallowed his retort. Captain Tau was abandoning him with few tools and little chance of survival. If Zuko failed, he’d lose nothing but a few easily replaceable items and some time. If Zuko succeeded, he’d be one step closer to an operating balloon. It was brutal calculus that did not favor Zuko at all, but Zuko wasn’t ready to lie back and let others dictate his death.

“Fine,” he said. “But I’m going to need help for my plan to work. I’m willing to extend my indenture to get it.”

“What kind of help?”

“Jet,” Zuko said.

“He has no glider,” Kelsang cut in. “He can’t fly. And his indenture is worth half as much as yours, if this bird-brained scheme succeeds.”

“And if it fails, you get rid of two liabilities,” Zuko retorted. “I know Jet’s reputation. No one would miss him. You might as well put him to better use than a mediocre deck swabber.”

Captain Tau nodded. Kelsang sighed, but stood down.

“Alright, it’s a deal,” Captain Tau said. “You’ll have your supplies, we’ll give you Jet, and in a week’s time we’ll return to…inspect the results.”

Zuko nodded, and Captain Tau waved him out. Once they were out the door, Kelsang grabbed him by the bicep, hard. He felt a knife press into his side.

“I don’t know what you’re planning, boy,” Kelsang said in his ear. “But if you think of double-crossing us or cheating us, or if you try to weasel your way out of this deal, you’re chum.”

The knife withdrew, and Kelsang shoved him forward. Zuko stumbled, but went to join Hiranjan by one of the braziers. He ignored the old pirate’s prattle to focus on his plan, but all he could think about was the looming possibility that this mission might well be his last.

We have faced more fearsome odds than these and survived.

His Uncle’s words surfaced in the tempest of his mind, calming him. This wasn’t the worst challenge he had ever faced, and he still had his oath. Perhaps the spirits would be kind to him. He made a note to pray to them tonight after everyone else had gone to bed. He’d need all the help he could get.

Chapter Text

The sky was dark, and in the distance storm clouds brewed as Zuko and Jet were rowed towards Kamui’s Rock. It was a desolate place: a steep pile of basalt and scree that loomed out of the sea like an omen, the tusk of some primordial beast left to rot. Lightning flashed on the horizon. Moments later, thunder rolled over the crashing waves.

“Remind me again why you dragged me into this?” Jet asked.

“Because I can’t do this alone,” Zuko said. “And you’re expendable.”

“Now, now, my darling little fishes,” Hiranjan said from his seat on the longboat. “Let’s retract our claws, pull in our spines, and learn to get along. You’ll be on that rock for a week, and it would be utterly devastating to my four chambers if we were to find naught but a few bloody bits of cloth and a pair of vexed ghosts.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion,” Jet snarled. 

“And yet, I generously provide it to you free of charge!” Hiranjan replied mildly.

The longboat scraped on some rocks as they reached the shore, a pebbly expanse of broken shells and rusting pieces of half-buried Fire Nation armor. Hiranjan tossed them camping packs as they jumped into the water, and then threw his glider to Zuko, who caught it in one hand. It was lighter, more masterfully crafted than his own had been, with sea green wings and etchings of birds on the shaft.

“Best of luck to the both of you!” he called. “I’ll be praying to all the spirits for your swift and speedy return!”

Jet spat. Zuko ignored them and trudged up the beach towards the mountain. Jet followed sullenly after as the wind picked up and the longboat rowed back towards the Bounty .

“We need to find shelter,” Zuko said.

“Let’s see if there’s a cave higher up,” Jet replied, scanning the sloping cliffs that formed the bulk of the Rock. “I don’t think we’ll have any luck setting up a tent in this weather.”

Zuko nodded, and the two set out on a treacherous climb. Luckily, they found a hollow cleft that had enough space for them to lay out their bedrolls, although if they wanted a fire they’d have to become much, much more comfortable with each other than they were. Zuko leaned the glider carefully up against the back wall and sat down cross-legged on his bedroll. He took a centering breath, and breathed out a small puff of flame. Jet scowled.

“If you’ve got something to say, say it now,” Zuko said. “I don’t want to be sleeping with one eye open for the next week.”

Jet folded his arms, leaning against the cave wall. Outside, the wind whipped and howled as the storm approached.

“I swore that I would destroy all firebenders for what they did to me,” he said. “And my family, my friends, my village. And yet, here I am, serving a firebender.”

“You don’t serve me,” Zuko said.

“What’s the difference?” Jet scoffed. “I’m here to help you. I don’t have a choice.”

Zuko produced another puff of fire.

“Do you want to kill me?” he asked.

Lightning flashed outside. Jet nodded.

“Then what’s stopping you?” Zuko growled, getting to his feet. Jet scoffed again.

“You must think I’m some kind of idiot,” he snapped. “I kill you now, and then what? Wait for the Bounty to return? Wait for the Southern Raiders? I didn’t survive capture and enslavement by being stupid. If you really have a plan to get us out of this situation, then isn’t it better for me to play along?”

Zuko glared at him. Lightning flashed again, throwing Jet’s features into shadow. Except for his eyes. His eyes were dark brown, almost black, but the hatred and cunning reflected off of them were plain as sparks. Zuko took a few steps forward until they were almost nose to nose.

“Listen to me carefully,” he said. Thunder rolled through the cave. “These marks on my skin are ships. Ships of Fire Nation soldiers and sailors. Ships that are now at the bottom of the sea because of me. These bands on my arms mark me a dead man if I ever return to the Fire Nation. So if you want to kill me? Pray to the spirits. Greater than you have tried and failed, you spineless, pathetic worm.”

Jet snarled, baring all of his teeth, and seized Zuko by the throat.

The storm arrived. Lightning and thunder shook the cave. Waves splashed high against the cliffs. Wind scoured the cleft. Two boys fought tooth and nail in the dark, illuminated only by the flashes of lightning. 

Jet had Zuko pinned to the wall.

Flash.

Zuko kicked Jet in the gut.

Flash.

Jet elbowed Zuko in the chin.

Flash.

Zuko slammed Jet’s head against the ground.

A mighty flash and roar of thunder shook the cave once more. Jet was kneeling over Zuko, a sharp rock in his hand, poised for the final strike.

“Do it!” Zuko yelled.

Breathing hard, Jet raised the rock. Then, with a mad roar, he turned and threw it out the mouth of the cave. He watched it clatter over the cliff’s edge and out of sight.

“Why aren’t you using your bending?” Jet demanded. “Why are you holding back!?”

Zuko spat blood on the cave floor.

“Because I need you,” he said. “I need your help.”

Jet stared incredulously down at him.

“So you were just gonna let me kill you?”

“I wasn’t going to let you,” Zuko said, shoving Jet off of him so he could sit up. “If you were really going to do it, you’d wait until I was asleep.”

“I know how light a sleeper you are,” Jet retorted, gingerly moving over to his bedroll.

“Fine,” Zuko rolled his eyes. “But for someone who claims he’s not stupid, you sure didn’t hesitate.”

“What can I say?” Jet said. “You have a very punchable face.”

Zuko snorted.

“Truce?” he offered. “At least until we’re free of the Bounty .”

“Or dead from the Raiders,” Jet said. “Fine. Truce.”

They both moved their bedrolls as far away from the cave entrance as possible, which meant that they would be sleeping practically in each other’s arms. Zuko didn’t relish the prospect, but it was better than being injured and sick from wet feet. With several winces, he tried to get comfortable under his blanket while Jet did the same.

“What about the red flower?” Jet asked when they had settled.

“What?” Zuko blinked, looking over. They were almost nose to nose.

“On your forehead,” Jet said. “Who did you kill to earn that?”

“Nobody,” Zuko said, looking away.

“Then what’s it for?”

Zuko listened to the rain and the wind. What was the point of hiding it?

“I fell in love with another man,” he said. “That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Jet asked, confused.

“It’s forbidden in the Fire Nation,” Zuko said with a sigh. “For two men to engage in carnal acts. Why do you think the others on the pressed crew shunned me?”

“Because you’re Captain Tau’s new favorite,” Jet said. Zuko snorted.

“They saw my tattoos,” he said. “They knew what they meant. I’m a lecherous, irredeemable monster.”

They lay in the dark. Zuko pulled his blanket up, trying to preserve what warmth he could. Nearby, Jet did the same. Sleep eventually claimed them both, small relief though it was.

Zuko did not stay in the cave when he woke up to gray sunlight and Jet’s snoring. He limped outside into the steely morning to find an empty, choppy sea and an equally dismal expanse of mountain and shore. He had bruises all over his body, and dried blood stuck to his face and hands. Gingerly making his way down to the shore, he washed up in the cold, salty sea. Jet joined him not too long after, looking no better.

They bathed in silence, neither looking at each other nor even acknowledging the other’s existence. Zuko did his best to get the bloodstains out of his clothes, but they had set in the night and he had no soap. Too late, he realized he hadn’t brought down anything dry to change into.

Gathering his wet clothes, he trudged back up to the cave. The wind was too cold to wait outside, even with his firebending, and anyway he didn’t want to be around Jet. He put his clothes on the ground and rummaged around in his camping pack. But there was nothing; Hiranjan hadn’t deigned to pack anything he could change into. Aside from a small tent, he found a knife, a cooking pot, some chopsticks, a spoon, some spare sailcloth and woodworking tools, a sewing needle and some thread, and a waterskin, which had burst in the previous night’s scuffle and soaked everything through. He grabbed Jet’s pack and rifled through it as well.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

Zuko turned to see Jet, also holding his wet clothes, glaring down at him from the cleft opening.

“They didn’t give us any spare clothes,” Zuko said. “Or anything at all.”

He was trying to ignore how both of them were naked—and cold—but then Jet sighed, dropped his clothing next to Zuko’s, and sat down on the bedroll, legs splayed open. Zuko instinctively folded his.

“Figures,” Jet scoffed, yanking his camping pack out of Zuko’s hands and looking through it. “I have some seal jerky and a waterskin. What’d they give you?”

“Some cooking tools and things to maintain the glider,” Zuko said. At least their fight hadn’t resulted in the glider being damaged. It was one blessing he’d take.

“So we need to find water,” Jet said. “And we’ll need to get food.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before,” Zuko said.

“When you’re homeless in the forest, you learn to survive or you die,” Jet said mulishly. “There might be a spring on this rock we can drink from. Last night’s rain also left puddles we can fill our waterskins in. As for food…”

“I don’t know how to fish,” Zuko said. “But it can’t be that hard.”

Jet gave him a disparaging look. Zuko glared back.

“Fine,” Jet said. “I’ll be in charge of food. Your job is to get water.”

He took a drink from his waterskin and made a face. Zuko tore his eyes away from the waterskin and went to gather up their clothes. Sitting in a meditative pose, he focused his breathing and warmed up his hands. Steam began to fill the cave, bit by bit.

“Hey! Don’t set my shirt on fire!” Jet said, snatching his clothing away before Zuko could touch them.

“I don’t want to stare at your naked body,” Zuko snapped, glaring at Jet. Now that he was offended and not embarrassed, he noted that Jet had a number of scars and burns across his arms and legs. Jet snapped his fingers in his face.

“Hey, I thought you said no staring,” he said.

“Sorry.” Zuko shook his head. He re-focused his breathing. “You have a lot of scars.”

“With regards from the Fire Nation,” Jet said.

Zuko finished drying his trousers and folded them on the bedroll before picking up his underwear. Jet glared at him suspiciously all the while, which Zuko was beginning to find annoying. By the time he was finished, his annoyance had morphed into irritation. He dressed quickly and put on his camping pack. Without another word, he left the cave in search of water.

Kamui’s Rock was extremely treacherous, but it was also home to a flock of puffin gulls, which told Zuko that if the fishing didn’t work out they would still be able to get meat and eggs. He struggled to think of any particular aphorism his Uncle might’ve said about this kind of situation. Maybe something about humbly accepting nature’s gifts? Captain Jee would’ve had more practical advice. Not for the first time, Zuko felt a pang of misery in his heart. What had become of his Uncle? Of Jee? Of his crew?

Did he really trust Azula to keep her word?

He shook his head. No point dwelling on it now.

His good luck continued when, at around mid-morning, he found a small freshwater spring near the top of the rock. He filled up his waterskin, which immediately leaked. With a sigh, he sat down and did his best to repair it. His fingers were raw and bleeding when he was finished, but the waterskin was usable again. He filled it up and climbed back down to the cave.

Jet had laid his clothes out along the cliff outside, and was lounging with his blanket wrapped around his waist.

“Well?” he asked as Zuko stepped over him to go inside the cleft.

“There’s a spring near the top of the mountain,” Zuko reported. “And puffin gulls. Lots of them.”

“I noticed,” Jet said, nodding to a pair of puffins preening nearby. “That spring. Did it look like a good place to set up camp?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko said. “It was hard to get to.”

“When those are dry, show me,” Jet said, gesturing to his clothes. “Then I’ll get us some lunch.”

“I could dry them for you right now,” Zuko said.

“No.”

Both of their stomachs growled at the same time. Zuko sighed.

“Look,” he said. “We both have to make it to the end of this alive. I won’t burn your clothes. I’m just going to heat them up until they dry. Okay?”

Jet was about to argue, but the breeze picked up and he shivered.

“Fine! You win!” he snapped. “Do your thing, but if you singe anything even a little I will push you off that cliff.”

Zuko rolled his eyes, and got to work. Soon enough, Jet was up, fully clothed and straightening his belt. Zuko considered using some of the sailcloth to make one for himself, given how windy the island was and how tiring it was to keep stoking his inner fire to stave off the chill.

“Alright, lead the way, ashmaker,” Jet said, folding his arms.

“Try to keep up, dirtbiter,” Zuko shot back.

The area around the spring was deemed unsuited for camping by Jet, so instead they pitched their tents further down the mountain in between a pair of large boulders that sat on a wide, east-facing shelf. Not only was it a more sheltered location, but it had the advantage of giving them enough space to sleep far apart while still keeping an eye on each other. There was room for a fire should they come across enough wild grass or driftwood to be able to build one. Zuko sighed internally at the prospect of having to manually boil and cook all their food himself. Their campsite established, and both of them far too cranky from hunger to even look at each other civilly, Jet left to get dinner while Zuko scaled the cliffs to try and catch some birds or locate a nest. They returned to the camp at about the same time, Jet with a pair of fish, and Zuko with a bird he’d managed to snatch while it was attacking him for invading its territory.

Zuko discovered that he wasn’t any good at cooking, either.

The sun was nearly down when they finally ate. It was a bland stew, but they didn’t care, consuming everything down to the bones. A few times they almost came to blows over portions, but the threat of spilling their only food kept them in check.

“They didn’t give you any bowls?” Jet asked, wiping his mouth.

“No,” Zuko said.

“Maybe we should be taking more than an engineer from the Southern Raiders,” Jet said. “Basic necessities.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Zuko said.

Jet grabbed one of the bones and began scrawling in the dirt by the light of Zuko’s flame.

“Bowls. Spare clothes. Rope,” Jet said.

“Medicine,” Zuko said. “Weapons, if we can get them.”

“Spears are good for fishing,” Jet said. “But we’d better not bring them back to the Bounty with us.”

“We’ll also need to keep the engineer from fighting us,” Zuko said. “If we’re armed and he’s not, he’ll be less likely to resist.”

“We could just tie him up,” Jet pointed out.

“Knots aren’t that hard to slip,” Zuko scoffed. Jet raised an eyebrow at him.

“Alright, some weapons, then. Salt, rice, and any dry food we can get our hands on.”

“At this point it would probably be easier to just steal the ship,” Zuko said.

“Could you?” Jet asked. He pointed to the tattoos. “You’ve sunk enough of them. Stealing one’s got to be a walk in the park for you.”

Zuko paused to consider it, then shook his head.

“No,” he said. “You can’t sail a Fire Navy ship with a crew of two, especially if we have to take down the actual crew first. But maybe we could steal a skiff.”

“Load it up with supplies and sail it away before anyone notices,” Jet said. “Oma and Shu, we could sink the ship and take the skiff on our way out. That would solve everything.”

Zuko frowned, but then nodded. What was one more tally to his total?

“There’s just one problem,” Zuko said. “I’d need to get you onboard the ship with me, and there’s only one glider.”

“Can’t you just carry me with you?” Jet asked. Zuko shook his head.

“You’d be too heavy,” he said. “We’d both fall into the ocean and drown.”

“Hm,” Jet stroked his chin. “Well, we have some time to think about it.”

“Yeah,” Zuko said. “We do.”

He rinsed out the pot and put it away. The clouds cleared, and the stars winked down at them. The waxing crescent moon was low in the sky, so Zuko took one of the bones from the meal and scorched it until it cracked, throwing the remains towards the horizon. A sharp breeze blew up, carrying the ash away even as the shards tumbled down the mountain. Well , thought Zuko, if Tui doesn’t want it, maybe the winds will appreciate the offering . He went back to his bedroll, ignoring Jet’s suspicious glare, and fell into a fitful sleep.

Zuko rose with the sun, although it might’ve been due to rolling over onto an especially sensitive bruise rather than his inner flame being stoked by Agni’s rise. He stretched with a groan, and saw that Jet was already awake. He had a pair of fish in the pot with water, and was trying to start a fire with some damp driftwood.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said without looking up.

Zuko scoffed, and then hobbled down to the beach to bathe. When he returned, Jet had a fitful, smokey fire going and was heating the pot over it.

“So what’s the plan?” Jet asked.

“Keep watch for passing ships,” Zuko said, sitting down across from him cross-legged. He focused his breath on the fire, growing it slightly.

“Hey!” Jet glared at him.

“I want to eat some time this morning,” Zuko snapped. Jet’s hand curled around a sharp rock, but he made no move to throw it. 

“So, when we spot a ship, what then?” Jet asked.

“I’m not sure,” Zuko said. “If it’s close enough, I can fly over to it.”

“But that still doesn’t help me get onboard,” Jet says.

The water boiled while they considered the problem. Jet poked at the fish.

“If we got them close to the island, we could do something,” he said.

“How are we supposed to do that?” Zuko asked.

“Signal fire? Flare?” Jet suggested. When he deemed the fish boiled enough, he moved the pot off the fire to cool, and then started eating. He had the chopsticks, so Zuko was forced to pick apart his fish with the spoon.

“That could work,” Zuko said. “If we can find enough driftwood, and light it on the cliff maybe.”

“So that gets them close,” Jet said. “How do we get onboard? You’ve got your fancy glider.”

“How far can you swim?” Zuko snarked.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Jet said, raising an unamused eyebrow.

“If they see a signal fire, they’ll send a skiff to investigate,” Zuko said. “Which means you can take it for yourself, or pretend to get captured.”

“How hard can it be to steal a skiff?” Jet said through a big mouthful of fish.

“I’ve sailed skiffs on the open sea,” Zuko said. “The steering is easy.”

“What about the rest of it?” Jet asked.

“...that might take some teaching,” Zuko admitted.

“Then it sounds like I’m going to be taken prisoner,” Jet said angrily. “Unless you want to help me steal the skiff.”

“They’ll notice a fight and either send more or sink us before we can approach,” Zuko said. “Look, as long as you don’t do something to make them angry—”

“Easy for you to say,” Jet snarled.

“—then they’ll probably just throw you in the brig,” Zuko plowed over him. “Once I’m onboard, I can break you out. I’ve done this kind of thing before.”

“Sure,” Jet said, glaring pointedly at his tattoos. “I can believe that part.”

“They won’t just kill you,” Zuko scoffed.

“They might!” Jet yelled. “I don’t know what kind of fantasy version of the Fire Nation you have, but the firebenders I’ve seen have all been ruthless murderers. They tortured us for fun. They ran us out of our homes and laughed. I’d rather be dead than their prisoner again.”

Zuko had no real answer for that, but he wasn’t about to let Jet have the last word.

“If you fight, you’ll get your wish,” he said.

“If I just let them capture me—”

“Then you’ll at least be alive for me to rescue you!” Zuko said. “I’m not going to abandon you.”

“Yeah, well,” Jet snapped. “How do I know that?”

“You still don’t trust me?”

“Why should I?”

They glared at each other across the fire. But that was the question: could Zuko trust Jet? Would Jet ever trust him? Jet’s hatred of firebenders ran deep, and as for Zuko, he’d already been betrayed once by someone he thought reliable. If Lieutenant Zan were here, he would’ve followed her advice without question, and trusted her with his life…right up until she sold him out.

If Sokka were here…

He banished that thought from his mind. Dealing with the present was what mattered. He chose his next words very carefully.

“We have a truce,” he said.

“Yeah, well, an ashmaker’s word is worthless, so,” Jet said mulishly.

“You need me to get off that pirate ship,” Zuko said.

“I was doing fine on my own,” Jet snapped. Zuko rolled his eyes.

“Look, you can either help me with the plan or you can keep being stubborn,” he snapped. “What have you got to lose?”

“Fine,” Jet said, teeth bared. “But this plan of yours is pretty weak.”

“I’m still working on the details,” Zuko retorted.

They finished their meal in silence, the only sounds being the wind whistling around them and the constant background cry of puffin gulls.

They settled into a routine of sorts. By tacit agreement, they spent as little time together as possible, but they were rarely idle. Twice a day at low tide, they combed the beaches for burnable flotsam. The pickings were slim, more dead seaweed than driftwood, but with persistence they got a decent pile that Zuko judged would burn for at least enough time that a passing ship would notice it.

As luck would have it, Kamui’s Rock had a small lighthouse built onto its northern slope, which they found on the fourth day. It was really more of a pile of rocks with a hollow in the middle to lay a fire, but it would serve its purpose. Moving their firestarters up to the lighthouse from the beach gave them plenty of time to work together in silence.

Jet, for his part, split his remaining time between fishing and physical training. Zuko occasionally saw him free climbing the cliffs around their camp. Once or twice, he caught sight of Jet swinging around a pair of sticks like they were swords. He never mentioned these escapades, and Zuko never asked about them.

Zuko, meanwhile, would take Hiranjan’s glider out for practice flights, trying to get accustomed to the local flying conditions. Kamui’s Rock was much more blustery than Whalepotamus Bay had been, and he nearly fell into the sea or drifted too far out to return more than once. By sheer dumb luck, he managed to reach land each time, but that was all it was. Getting to the Southern Raiders ship, if one ever arrived, was going to be a challenge.

When he wasn’t gliding, he was firebending. The lack of training since his arrest, on top of his injuries, had taken a toll already, and he spent many frustrating afternoon hours fumbling through sets he’d thought he’d mastered months ago. During these sessions, he could feel Jet’s eyes watching him from far away. Rather than let this throw him off, he put more anger into his bending. If the dirtbiter wanted to watch, Zuko would give him a show.

Dinners were usually quiet. Both of them were tired from their day, and neither had any real desire to speak to the other. Jet didn’t argue about letting himself be captured, which meant he’d do it or he wouldn’t. Zuko didn’t attempt to persuade him that he wasn’t like the other firebenders. It would’ve been pointless.

Five days passed on the Rock before they saw the ship.

It was late afternoon, and the sun was setting in the northwest. The half moon rose in the northeast. Zuko was loitering on the cliffs by the lighthouse, brooding at the dark ocean. On the ground next to him was a small pile of leftovers from dinner, which had been roasted puffingull.

“La, bring us a ship,” he muttered, taking a piece of meat and chucking it as far as he could. It landed with a splash in a tidepool below, and was immediately set upon by birds.

“Tui, bring us luck,” he said. He burnt the next piece and threw the ashes into the wind.

“Agni, give me strength,” he said, turning to face the sun. He burned the rest of the leftovers and left the remains where they were. The wind grabbed them up and carried them away, dropping ash in his eyes. He blinked in annoyance. He was starting to hate the wind.

Jet’s footsteps were prelude to his arrival, and he dropped heavily on the cliff’s edge next to where Zuko sat.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see an ashmaker pray to the spirits,” he remarked.

“I learned the hard way to show respect where it’s due,” Zuko said.

“Sounds like there’s a story there,” Jet said.

“Oh, now you’re curious,” Zuko scoffed.

“I figure you’re better to talk to than the birds,” Jet said with a sigh. “The Bounty will be back in a couple of days. I’m trying not to think about what happens if we fail.”

“We won’t,” Zuko said.

“If a Raider ship doesn’t show up, then—hang on, do you see that?” Jet sat up straight and pointed. Zuko followed his hand and then got to his feet. On the horizon, just below the sun, was a black cloud that grew larger by the second.

“Soot,” Zuko said.

“Come on!” Jet scrambled up and ran over to the firestarter pile. “Let’s light this beacon!”

Zuko nodded, and the two got to work laying the kindling. Zuko got the spark going, and then they piled on as much of the detritus as they could. At first, the pyre only gave off a cloud of heavy, dirty smoke, but soon enough they had a blaze so bright that the approaching ship couldn’t help but to notice.

“Alright, Zuko,” Jet said. “What’s the plan?”

“They send a skiff,” he said. “You get captured. I fly over and rescue you. We go from there.”

“What if we knocked them out, stole their armor, and sailed the skiff back?” Jet suggested. Zuko shook his head.

“That won’t work,” he said. “That ship’s crew will all know each other too well for us to sneak in like that.”

“Worth a shot,” Jet said. “I know what I’ll do: I’ll tell them I’m an escaped slave with information about a troublesome pirate ship.”

“That’s not really a lie,” Zuko pointed out.

“The best lies have a grain of truth,” Jet replied with a smirk. Zuko’s heart skipped a beat.

“Spirits, you sound like my sister,” he said, shaking his head.

“I’m just improving on your dumb idea,” Jet retorted.

“Yeah. It’s not a bad plan,” Zuko said, testing the wind. “Okay. I’m going to go get ready. Good luck.”

“You, too,” Jet said, folding his arms and watching the approaching ship, visible now by its deck lamps. 

The Southern Raider frigate Harbinger had been steaming home after a routine patrol around the Patola Mountains. The crew were in high spirits—for many, their rotation was nearly done, and they’d have a chance for shore leave in Shachi-minato or to return home to the Fire Nation. Captain Ide, however, was bored. He’d expected to fight water rats in their cutters, crushing these last vestiges of resistance to Fire Nation supremacy. Instead, he was rounding up petty thieves in junks and small-time smugglers. It wasn’t the glorious appointment he’d been hoping for.

“Another entirely uneventful voyage,” he lamented to the helmsman. “Why must I be so cursed?”

“Respectfully, Captain,” the helmsman said. “A quiet tour isn’t so bad every once in a while.”

“They’ve all been quiet, Saki,” Captain Ide said. “I’d kill for a bit of excitement. I’m tired of having to sit out when the other captains get into their war stories. And it’d be nice to have something to report to Commander Kang besides, ‘All quiet, sir!’”

The helmsman held his tongue. This irked Captain Ide, who was very in-tune with shipboard gossip and could guess what the helmsman was probably thinking. Before he could upbraid him for it, however, the watch officer came in.

“Captain! Beacon sighted on Kamui’s Rock!”

“A beacon? Where? Show me!”

Captain Ide slid open one of the bridge windows and leaned out. In the distance, a fire burned on an island, stark against the starless night. He took the spyglass from the watch officer for a closer look. They were too far for him to discern much detail beyond the shadowy bulk of the island and the size of the fire, which was certainly too big to be natural.

“It could be a distress beacon,” the watch officer suggested. “Some poor fool stranded after a wreck.”

“Or it could be a pirate trap,” Captain Ide said, grinning. “Finally, something interesting! Keep an eye on that flame and report any change. Helmsman! Change course for Kamui’s Rock. I shall go and marshal the marines.”

“Yes, sir!”

The marines assembled in the forward bay, ready for deployment. One or two swayed unsteadily on their feet, clearly having drunk too much after dinner. Another stifled a yawn. Captain Ide marched to the front, followed by his trusted lieutenant, Hide.

“Men, we’ve spotted a beacon on Kamui’s Rock,” he said. “A desolate spit of rock, abandoned by the Fire Navy, but… a potential haven for pirates. Therefore, for the honor of the Southern Raiders and the glory of our nation, we will deploy a skiff to investigate.”

There were some barely-disguised groans and an eyeroll, but Captain Ide ignored them. For now.

“I shall be dividing you into two teams,” he said. “I shall personally lead the skiff team to the island to investigate. The rest of you shall remain under Lieutenant Hide’s command, ready to meet any potential boarders with lethal force. For glory!”

“For the Fire Lord.” The reply was unenthusiastic. Captain Ide swiftly sorted the teams, ensuring Lieutenant Hide got all the drunkards with instructions to punish them for disorderly conduct, and readied the skiff. Lieutenant Hide left that task to a petty officer and ascended to the bridge to oversee the Harbinger’s approach.

“Be ready for anything,” Captain Ide said as the ship dropped anchor, and the bow ramp lowered. The skiff launched down the ramp and into the sea with a splash. The skipper brought her about and soon they were scraping the pebbly beach of Kamui’s Rock. Captain Ide strode ashore, casting about for an ambush. He saw a figure approach, hands raised.

“Halt! Who goes there?” He threw a fireball in warning. The figure dodged behind a rock, briefly illuminated in the flame. It was a scrawny-looking boy.

“Stop! I surrender!” The boy said.

“Stay there. Men! Seize him!” Captain Ide ordered. Two marines ran over, dragging the boy out by the arms. He struggled to stay on his feet, but didn’t try to escape. Captain Ide remained suspicious. “Who are you?”

“I was a slave on a pirate ship,” the boy said, looking down. “Please, if you help me I can tell you where they are!”

“A slave? Ha! Likely story,” Captain Ide laughed. “You’re a pirate.”

“I’m not a pirate!” the boy cried, head jerking up. His expression was fearful. “You have to believe me!”

“Who else is here?” Captain Ide demanded.

“There’s no one,” the boy said. “It’s just me. I barely escaped with my life.”

“Lies,” Captain Ide said, grabbing the boy by the chin and holding up a flame-wreathed fist. “Tell me the truth! Now!”

“Captain!” A marine came up at that moment. “We found a campsite.”

“How many?” Captain Ide said.

“Just one,” the marine replied. “And barely enough supplies for that.”

“Hmph,” Captain Ide released the boy. “Fine. Where are the rest of the pirates?”

“I’ll tell you,” the boy whimpered. “Just, please, take me aboard your ship. I want to go home.”

Captain Ide smirked. This was clearly a trap, but one he was confident of being able to walk out of unscathed.

“Very well,” he said. “We’ll grant your wish. Tie him up and throw him in the brig. We’ll get the location of his little friends out of him soon enough. Have cheer, men, for tonight we embark on a pirate hunt!”

The response from the marines was one of reluctant acceptance. The boy’s hands were bound, and he was thrown unceremoniously aboard the skiff. The rest of the Rock was given a cursory search, but nothing else of interest turned up. Captain Ide was in such a good mood, he launched into his favorite drinking song as soon as the skiff got back underway.

None of them—not Captain Ide, nor any of the marines—saw the figure flying above them towards the Harbinger , a faint silhouette against the cloudy night.

Zuko battled the wind to reach the frigate, but reach it he did. In the dark, with few visible guides, he had to use what little instinct he had accrued to find the updrafts needed to cross from the Rock to the ship. The frigate itself was not amenable to landing.

There was no tall deckhouse for him to aim for, merely a short superstructure with slanted walls and red-tinted windows. Behind this was the steam funnel, which had a ladder running its length. Zuko banked towards it, grabbing hold of the rungs in one hand while the wind tried to rip his glider free from the other. He gritted his teeth and held on tight until his footing was secure. Folding the wings, he stowed the glider on his back and then turned to take stock of the situation. 

The frigate was very different from a standard cruiser. Two enormous paddlewheels took up the stern section, covered in part by a metal roof. Directly forward of this was what looked like the main engine block. Zuko could only speculate how much more cramped the ship’s interior was compared to the Setsujoku or even the Momiji . There was a large hatch on the top deck that he supposed could be for cargo or the Raiders’ infamous ballistas. A few raiders strolled the decks with lanterns, talking in low voices and laughing. Zuko snorted in derision: despite their numbers, they were cocky. He’d make short work of them when the time came.

Descending silently, he slipped inside and found a storage closet to stash the glider in among the coats and ropes. He climbed down a ladder to a lower deck, ducking out of sight as a pair of raiders exited what sounded and smelled like the crew mess. He peeked inside, seeing it relatively empty, and moved on. A few seconds later, however, he heard voices approaching.

“Can’t believe we’re changing course again. We should be in Shachi-minato by now!”

“Well, Captain’s found himself a new quest, so what can you do?”

“Spirits, I hope he chokes.”

Zuko ducked through a nearby door, closing it quietly and quickly behind him. He froze, however, when he saw where he was: the galley. And not only was it not empty, it was fully staffed. Shocked faces with eyes of green and brown looked back at him. Shabbily-dressed Earth Kingdom people held used dishes and pots of food. A young man towards the back dropped a ladle.

“Uh. I wasn’t here.” Zuko said, and then slowly exited the galley.

He bumped right into the raiders he had been hiding from.

“Hey! Stowaway!”

If he hadn’t been taken by surprise; if he wasn’t still recovering from his fight with Jet; if he hadn’t stupidly backed out of a door in enemy territory without checking his surroundings; if he’d just made a better plan, Zuko wouldn’t have been so quickly apprehended.

“Eyes up, pipsqueak! You’ve got company.”

The raider threw Zuko into the brig, a small metal cell with a bench and nothing else. He stumbled into the far wall,the door slamming shut behind him before he could do anything more than snarl impotently. Jet, lounging on the bench, clicked his tongue.

“I told you it was a bad plan,” he said.

“Shut up,” Zuko snapped, casting around. The door was a solid hatch with no way to open it from the inside. The vent was too small to crawl through. With a sigh, Zuko sat hard against the wall and slid to the floor. “Fine. We need a new plan.”

“You know, I noticed something when they dragged me in here,” Jet said, picking some wax out of his ear. “There’re an awful lot of Earth Kingdom slaves on this Fire Nation ship.”

“I saw that, too,” Zuko said. “I passed through the galley. They were washing dishes.”

“How many did you see?”

“I didn’t count,” Zuko said, shaking his head. “Maybe five or six?”

“Lot more than that in the boiler room, I bet,” Jet said.

“What are you getting at?” Zuko demanded.

“Oh come on, I thought you were smart,” Jet said. “Mutiny. Uprising. We help the people here throw out the firebenders and take the ship.”

Zuko’s instinctive reply was to call that plan suicidal, but he forced himself to pause and give it some thought.

“We’re still trapped here,” he pointed out.

“Not for long,” Jet said. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a spanner. “How long do you think it’ll take me to take apart that door?”

“A few hours,” Zuko estimated, looking it up and down. “That’s if no one notices.”

“Well, in a few hours it’ll be the middle of the night,” Jet said. “Everyone asleep, only a few guards on duty. It’s the perfect time.”

“That’s if we can convince them to join us,” Zuko said.

“You leave that to me,” Jet said, standing up and stretching. “I can be very persuasive.”

He got to work on the hatch, and that was when Zuko noticed the small pile of screws under the bench.

“You were planning this already,” he said.

“Yeah,” Jet admitted. “I would’ve told you when you showed up.”

Zuko rolled his eyes, and began to meditate. There wasn’t anything else he could do to help except prepare for the upcoming fight. Then, a thought occurred to him.

“You know, this would be the perfect time to betray me,” he said.

“I know,” Jet replied, not looking at him.

“You convince the slaves to revolt,” Zuko said. “You take control of the ship. You tell them I’m just an ashmaker, and they throw me overboard with everyone else.”

Jet said nothing. A screw clattered to the floor.

“If I have a Southern Raider ship, then I have no reason to return to the Bounty ,” Jet said. “I can fight the Fire Nation again. I can go back home. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll find my friends.”

Zuko suddenly felt a sucking void in his belly, cold and awful, like the choice he faced: let Jet abandon him to the whims of fate, or strike now and remove him as a threat. If he took out Jet, he’d still have to escape the frigate somehow with the chief engineer and enough supplies to survive the next few days. He had no doubt that the slaves wouldn’t listen to him, wouldn’t put their trust in him, wouldn’t follow him in overthrowing the captain. He wasn’t a prince. He didn’t command any respect. He was just a criminal.

But he had a duty to the Avatar, and that meant he couldn’t let Jet cut him out of the plan just like that.

Perhaps there was a third choice. Zuko got to his feet, dusted his knees, and then approached the hatch. Using his fingers, he pried and twisted the bolts until they loosened up.

“What are you doing?” Jet asked.

“I’m helping you,” Zuko replied as if this were obvious.

“Why?” Jet asked, confusion deepening.

“Because I still need you,” Zuko said, glaring at him. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you. You want this ship? I’ll help you take it. But I want something in return.”

“What makes you think I want to make a deal with you?” Jet scoffed.

“Because if you don’t, neither of us are getting out of here alive,” Zuko said. “You think these slaves can stand up to firebenders alone? You need me just as much as I need you.”

“Fine. What do you want?”

“I want my balloon back,” Zuko said.

“You want us to turn on the Bounty ,” Jet said.

“Why not?” Zuko said, gritting his teeth as he worked on removing the bolt entirely. “You hate them as much as I do. Besides, I’m sure the pressed crew wouldn’t mind having their indentures ended a little early.”

“You’re asking a lot,” Jet said. Zuko didn’t reply. Eventually, Jet sighed, and turned to face him. “Alright. Deal. You help me win my freedom, I’ll help you get your balloon back.”

He stuck out his hand. Zuko clasped it.

“On my honor,” he said. Jet smirked.

“Don’t try to get cute with me,” he said. “This doesn’t make us friends.”

Zuko blinked, and then snorted in laughter.

“What?” Jet demanded.

“Nothing,” Zuko said. “It’s cute you think I’d ever want to be your friend.”

Jet glared at him.

“I hate you so much,” he said.

“I hope you choke on a peach pit,” Zuko retorted.

“Not before either of us get out of here,” Jet said. With a grunt, he removed another bolt, causing the whole door to shift in its frame. Zuko squatted down to help hold it up while Jet quickly worked on the remaining bolts. When the last one was out, the hatch wobbled. Jet and Zuko struggled to lower it to the floor without crushing any fingers or toes. Still, it landed with a loud, echoing crash. The two exchanged looks, and then peered out into the corridor: no guards, and no sounds of running feet.

“Let’s go,” Zuko said.

“Right behind you,” Jet replied.