Unable to return to the dock to fish, Zuko rummaged in the forest, mostly fruitlessly, and quite literally so. On the fourth day he ate an entire bush of berries, filling his stomach until he tasted citrus at the back of his throat, and later paid for his greed tenfold—there had been a reason no one, not even a bird, had claimed those fruits. On the seventh day he caught a hare, desperate to replenish his strength with a real meal of roast meat, and in the time he'd taken to fetch drinking water and return to camp the prize had been stripped off the roasting stand as, evidently, the bison had not signed up to be his guard of the larder. By the tracks left from the culprit a fox had scented it out and capitalized on the chance for an easy dinner. Furious, Zuko kicked the remnants of the roasting stand, constructed from sticks and grass twine, sending them cracking against a tree. On the tenth day he ate grass as the bison did, reconsidered, and spat out a wad of partially chewed green vegetation, then watched in horror as the bison nosed over and ate it off the ground without hesitation. Thirteen days had passed when he made the journey back to the docks.

His sister, leaning on the railing on the deck above, snickered as he limped to the dock barely able to keep upright. Again he was treated to a meal while she watched and analyzed his every expression and movement. He entertained thanking her for dinner and leaving. "I'm glad you've come back, Zuko," she said, using his proper name for once. She seemed to be on her best behavior, which drove primal fear into his gut. She smiled at him in the same way she had when they were kids, vacationing to Ember Island, before she had lifted a rock to smash a crab on the beach into shell-fragments and mash. "You look thin. You aren't eating well, are you? We'll be back in the Fire Nation soon enough and you can recover your strength."

"I haven't agreed to anything yet."

"Think about your position, brother. You need my help, and I need yours. You're going to waste away before you ever get your hands on the Avatar at this rate. Stay with me. I'll take care of you."

This she-devil even remembered my favorite foods, he thought. She's desperate to get me to agree. Numbing-spice noodles, simmered vegetables in a ginger-garlic sauce, and braised pork belly filled the table. But she has nothing to gain by killing me, either. It might be possible she wants me to return to serve as a check to Zhao's power, for her own protection. If she wanted me dead she would just have to wait for me to finish starving. He weighed the situation back and forth.

While he continued to eat and think, Azula said, "Uncle will want to see you, too. By the time we return with the Avatar he'll be well again."

It hit him in the spot it hurt most; she knew just where to aim. What would Uncle advise me to do? Certainly not starve to death. I'm not making progress—I don't even know where to begin. If I don't regain my honor, I'll never be allowed home, and I'll never see Uncle again. It would be the second time he lost the person he loved most. He asked, "Where do you think the Avatar is?"

"I'm not sure. From Gao Ling he could have gone anywhere. However, I know the place we can find out, the place where all rumors converge: Ba Sing Se."

"He's evaded causing rumors until now. Why would he begin traveling under his title rather than incognito?"

"His age. You said he looked around fourteen or fifteen. He needs to begin training, and he needs funding and protection. In Gao Ling they have a famous earthbending school. Well, had," she emphasized. "He may have gone there to study. If he needs a trainer, then he'll be making his debut and seeking patronage, seeking a master."

It was convincing. He polished off the last slice of pork belly, the crispiness contrasting the silky fat which melted in his mouth. "Not even Uncle could get into Ba Sing Se, though."

"Uncle was dragging along an army and knocked at the front door. Sneaking in just two people is a lot more practical."

"Passports?"

"I have contacts. In fact, the crew I hired for this ship deals in a variety of exciting markets. We can have documents drafted en suite."

Why is everything she says always so perfect? Why does she even need me? But I need her. I confronted the Avatar in the temple and couldn't keep a hold of him, and that was with my crew. Now what do I have? In the Earth Kingdom if I'm caught as a firebender they'll have me killed.

He didn't want to enter the city—the city which even the Dragon of the West could not overcome—but conceded that it was their best shot. "Fine. I accept. What do we do with the air bison?"

"Oh, bring him. He'll be of great convenience to us."

That evening he retrieved the bison and, with the cover of night so the town residents wouldn't see, brought it onto the ship. Assigned a private cabin, Zuko laid down and felt a taste of the luxury he'd been deprived of for so long, wondering if his term of punishment might soon come to an end. Comforts as simple as a bed and a meal were now life-changing. "There's nothing wrong with working with Azula. It's proper. She's my sister, we are royalty, and we are serving our nation. This is honorable." He rolled over and felt the sting of the new scars speckled across his body still aching beyond what the medicinal salve could mend. "I've suffered enough. Father will surely forgive me by now, especially when he sees what we've done. The Avatar, subjugated by the Fire Nation. I'll finish what Firelord Sozin started, and father and I will both be complete. This will be the end of things, and then I'll be safe. Uncle will be there. He'll be proud." After whispering such to himself, he fell asleep too easily into the softness and warmth of the bedding, with the gentle rocking of the anchored boat feeling nostalgic.

#

The house they were afforded in the Upper Ring came at no expense, courtesy of Aang's position. Curated gardens and artificially circulated waterways decorated the area, making it quiet at night but also difficult to traverse on foot. Most of the residents there had private coaches, but their group all refused to use them for different reasons. Sokka liked to come and go when he pleased and wouldn't so much as inform the host when arrangements should be made, but strolled off when he felt like it and returned at random times, often late into the night. Her brother said he was sitting in on lectures, but she suspected he was more interested in the other students than the material, or was elsewhere meeting for a midnight garden-party. Luckily she was not the one washing his clothing free of smears of makeup and lingering perfumes. Aang was finally free to airbend in public and went everywhere by glider. Katara, having grown up sewing her own clothing and cooking her own meals, felt reluctant to take on servants to wheel her around the city, and also disliked their host with her strained smile and uptight disposition, feeling that the woman was disingenuous and likely reporting all their activities to her boss, whomever that might be, and for whatever purpose. Her father, meanwhile, had been staying at the barracks where he was afforded a general's suite as his mornings started early. Hakoda was no stranger to the generals of the Earth Kingdom and worked with them like a brother. It was unclear how long he would stay there before returning to Chameleon Bay.

They were afforded a generous allowance as well, far more money than they could eat or buy their way through. One could find anything for sale in the city, as they had a shop for everything. Katara went to browse the boutiques and found what she was looking for, blue garments folded neatly on a display—Water Tribe clothing. After a consultation and fitting she emerged with her Earth garments folded away in a bag and a Northern style dress as blue as water against her body. Sokka had the chance to change in Chameleon Bay, but their father's men didn't stock clothing for women so she'd had to wait to feel comfort again. Aang had jumped at the chance to once again shave his head and sport his tattoos freely.

Ba Sing Se had several resident healers as well as herbalists and nonbender physicians, but there were always more clients than providers, so she had no dearth of requests. During her previous stay she'd built up a good reputation and now her reentrance by the side of the Avatar had brought yet more fame. She'd chosen the apothecary she'd worked with previously, a quiet and studious woman with a workshop in the Middle Ring, to provide her office space and take in a list of requests via her secretary. Katara dipped her head in that morning to find the list ordered not by urgency but by price bid.

"What is this?" she addressed the secretary. "I requested to see the most urgent cases first."

The old woman shook her head knowingly. "With your skills you could earn a fortune here. If only I were a waterbender I'd be living in the Upper Ring by now."

"I don't care how much money someone has, I care how much they need me."

"Ah, because you are working with the Avatar now? Would you arrange a meeting with him for me? My niece wants to meet him. Is it true he's only ten years old?"

"He's fourteen and he's busy with training." She slapped the paper down and pointed to the first client, leaning on the desk. "What is his ailment?"

"Bunion." She moved to the next, and down the list, the replies being, "Premature wrinkles. Tooth ache. Check-up. Toenail fungus. Scraped knee."

"Ugh." Katara stood up and put a hand on her hip. "You know, I think I'll go to the Lower Ring and see if the refugees need anything. I know the other healers won't see them because they can't pay."

The secretary stood up and held a hand out pleadingly. "Wait, you can't go to the Lower Ring. You don't want to be harangued by those scruffy tramps."

"What? They're people and they're in need. There is nothing terrible about them, they just happened to be living in the wrong place at the wrong time when the Fire monsters came through." She glared at the woman. "Unless you can point to an emergency case on this list, I'm done here."

The secretary flipped the sheet around, scanned the names, and pointed. "This young man said he needed to speak with you urgently about a personal matter."

Katara peered at the name. It was the young man from Gao Ling who wanted to date her. "Is he injured?"

"No, I didn't see any injury."

"The next time I see him, he will be."

She gulped. Katara stomped out and tried to find her bearings. In the past she'd been afraid of the authority figures who told her to stay in the Middle Ring, but she wasn't having that nonsense anymore. Waterskin at her side, she walked down the main avenue approaching the gate, half a mile from the apothecary's shop, where a queue formed for passport check. She waited in line, tapping her foot, until she reached the guard. After flashing the access card—complete with a gold foil stamp of the highest certification—she stepped forward expectantly and was arrested by a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait, honored guest. You don't want to go down there."

"I do, actually."

"It's dangerous. If you have business there please allow us to assign you a bodyguard pair."

"I don't need a bodyguard." She supposed that Aang and the monks had been correct, and decency was frowned upon in the city. "Please step aside."

Unhappy with the refusal but having no legal grounds to detain her, the guard stepped back and she was allowed through. From the clean-swept paving stones she stepped onto compacted dirt. The streets were narrow and dark, while the buildings grew derelict with disrepair. In the Upper Ring every building had meticulous care put in every smallest detail, but here the basic construction forms were not even squared off much less decorated. People in dirty clothing strode hastily with their faces downcast. Women at work in shops labored with infants strapped to their back. Old men huddled in alcoves with a tin cup set out for charity. As she walked she felt eyes on her and knew her clothing was too new and well tailored and her hairpin attracted poor thoughts. Perhaps people were calculating how many meals its sale would buy them.

She found a woman who was sweeping outside a shop and asked where she could find injured people. "Everywhere," came the terse reply.

"Wait. I'm a healer, I wanted to help."

"No one has money. You're in the wrong place."

"For charity, I mean."

She leaned on her broom. "That's sweet, but it's dangerous to be around here without an escort dressed like that. If you're decent enough to want to help anyone it would be a shame if you ran into the typical sort of scum we have down here. For your own sake, go get a guard." There was a shout from inside the shop. The woman jumped up and resumed sweeping. "If you really want to find where they're housing the injured, go ask at the tall building down that way," she said, then gestured. "It's a social office. They'll know where the medical tents are. The city gives them some caregivers, but no one good, and not real doctors, just nurses with barely any training."

"Thank you," she said and turned to find the building. It stood out as the tallest in the Lower Ring, built of wood and somewhat maintained compared to the rest. Outside were a multitude of people seated against the walls and on the staircase, like they spent a lot of time there, tossing dice or engaged in quietly kept conversation. Katara approached hesitantly, wondering if she could make it past them to the entrance. A few looked at her strangely, but no one moved to stop her. Inside the atmosphere was more orderly and she saw the familiar sight of civil workers attending their jobs, dressed uniformed and clean. She asked at the front desk. "Hi, I'm a healer actually, I was wondering if I could help out."

The man was astounded. "Really? Of course. Do you need anything?"

"Just some water and a quiet place to work." He led her down the hall more excited than she'd ever seen an office worker be, and through a doorway they came to a large room divided with screens and packed with cots and straw mattresses on pallets. Over a hundred people were there, crowded in wherever they could find room, all in miserable states of illness or injury. "There's so many." She sat down before a ten year old girl who was covered in burns. The girl was so fatigued and in pain she barely acknowledged Katara. As she began, the familiar glow of the healing water lit the room, and everyone watched in astonishment. Katara wondered how many she could get through before a new wave of victims of firebenders would arrive. In the medical bay there was not a single bed that had gone unfilled, indicating that even more had been turned away and wouldn't receive any treatment there.

"Thank you," said the little girl as she sat up, looking at her intact, freshly healed skin after the bandages had been removed.

"Of course." She refrained from asking where her parents were. If they weren't at their daughter's side, it was likely whatever had injured her had done them in. Injured soldiers were housed in a military medical barracks—all the people in the room at the social office were civilians.

In late evening she took the train back and was awakened by an attendant informing her they were at her stop. "Oh. I must have dozed off." She barely made it home, yawning every step, and was greeted inside by Aang and Momo racing each other. It looked like a tornado had hit the main living area.

"Katara!" He stopped mid-swoosh, and the lemur plowed into his head the next second. "Oof!"

"Is there any food here?"

"Nope," said her brother. "Didn't you eat anywhere?"

"No time. It's alright, I'll just eat in the morning. Bed."

The next day the guard at the station didn't hinder her. The same crowd of people were sitting in their haunts outside the office and gazed at her with vacant looks. Inside the workers were thankful and eager to help her any way they could, while the injured seemed just as numerous as they'd been the previous day. Grey snow, flecked with ash.

It was afternoon when her stomach refused to be ignored any longer. The nurse put a hand on her shoulder and said, "You should take a break for the day. We can't have you getting sick."

Katara gathered herself and left, feeling a little woozy and wondering if there was anywhere in the Lower Ring to grab a bite, as the train to the Middle would add an extra forty minutes she didn't want to wait. The sunlight had diminished early from an overcast day, and the air was humid and dense. The buildings were a twisting maze of tightly packed sidestreets and tenement apartments piled atop dark shopfronts. She began walking and thought there seemed to be a lot more people outside than had been there yesterday, and, pacing several blocks into the maze, encountered no restaurant. Maybe I'll go to the station after all. I have no idea where I am. Looking around nervously, she tried to remember the way back. The buildings were just tall enough to obscure the whereabouts of the rail track, and the streets were not straight as they were in the Middle Ring, but curved and zagged around preexisting structures like they had been built without plan wherever room could be found.

She walked on, self conscious of her footsteps and wrapped in long shadows, thinking that she could have been at the station already if she hadn't been desperate for a snack. Around the next corner she nearly walked into a man standing in the street. "Sorry," she said, and tried to sidestep him. The man turned to look at her. His eyes were cold. In the nearby alley were clustered several others who seemed to be with him. Katara backstepped, not wanting to go past them, and tried to return the other way. The men from the alley shifted and emerged. As she looked back, she saw the glint of weapons at their side.

"Stay away from her." A young man stepped around the corner and leveled a weapon at the group, then placed himself between her and them. "I'm warning you."

They stood off for a tense moment as the group weighed their chances. Finally their leader shook his head and strode off down the street, and the others glared at her and the young man once more before following after.

He watched them go, not dropping his guard until they were out of sight, then turned to her and asked, "Are you okay?" He grinned with a piece of wheat held between his lips. His hair was mid-brown and messy, and he was about the same age as Sokka. "Name's Jet."

"Thank you. That was pretty scary, actually. I didn't expect that in the city."

"The Lower Ring is a little different than the rest of Ba Sing Se. People here have either lost everything or never had anything to begin with. It makes some people desperate enough to start trouble." He had a smooth way of talking and a certain charisma. "Are you lost?"

"I was looking for dinner, actually. Guess I'm out of luck."

"You can eat supper with my group and me, back at our place. My friends are great. I'm sure you'll like them. You're that healer who has been working with the refugees, right? Everyone has heard about you by now. For better and worse." He nodded to a building half a block away. "We have an apartment over there. You're welcome to join us. My friends should have dinner on by now."

"Well, I don't know," she wavered.

"You should eat something, really. If you're walking around lightheaded and distracted you'll be a sitting duck for scum like that.