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Amaruq is a complete schmuck! Atuat found it hard to keep silent. She clapped her large, strong hands in a sudden motion and exhaled. “I see. The girls will eventually be needed at the Center. Yet, we are idle. I am idle. And wasted. If you’ll not assign some of them to Newen or any other master, at least give me leave to travel.” She meant to plead — an appeal to his ego —, but failed. She was used to being obeyed. So was he: “You’re in constant communication with our sister tribe, as well as foreign healers. That must be enough. You’re needed here.” She made a quick, sloppy curtsy, mocking his authority. They were close enough that she wouldn’t be punished for it. She was needed, after all. “Besides, what would be of our nights at the Pokat without Master Atuat’s engrossing commentary?”

As they approached the gate where the Kilauea would make port, the frozen walkways became crowded and she couldn't protest him. Trading ships such as this brought in most of Agna Qel’a’s mail, as well as dried and fermented goods, spices, fabrics, and other imports — so, their arrival was highly anticipated by most residents. In spite of the crowd, the Counselor noticed them and signaled to his subordinates so that Atuat, Amaruq and his armed guards were raised atop the gate by a column of ice. From there, they could see the Fire Nation ship entering the harbor. Tiguak met them with a formal greeting. “Who’s the official?” They both wondered. “We don’t know. Their letter only warned of her immediate need of assistance.”

The cabin temperature increased consistently with the Lieutenant’s agitation. Rangi had got the last of their things ready while Hei-Ran rested. The sweat dripped off of her short hair. They were exhausted. Desperate at this point. She’d spent the prior weeks pondering how much she could tell the Captain and, more importantly, Chieftain Amaruq and the Northern Water Tribe healers. Rumors of the massacre back in Yokoya might have preceded them. The Earth sages’ and the King’s men might be searching for them. She’d gathered news of Kyoshi from air nomads traveling north, but there had been no replies to her letters. She was oblivious to what might have happened after they left Quinchao. She had no idea how they might be received. It was unlike her to be this nervous. Her mother would have been disappointed. She was, Rangi thought. But it didn’t matter now, the ship laid anchor.

A young officer marched, unchallenged, ahead the Captain, the crew, and the merchants. Upon crossing the ice dock and being lifted onto the gate, she offered a deep bow as she waited permission to speak. This was odd. She didn’t have a topknot. The men were noticeably stunned as well. "Lieutenant Rangi Sei’naka?” Tiguak asked. "Yes, sir.” She spoke firmly, but her voice was hoarse from crying. When Atuat met her eyes, she could see how distressed the girl really was. “Your letter spoke of a high-ranking official. Who is she?”

“My mother. High-Commander and Headmaster of the Royal Fire Academy, Hei-Ran Sei’naka.” The three masters shuddered. It had been seventeen years since Avatar Kuruk died in Agna Qel’a, at the Healing Center. Hei-Ran had not been there — though the Avatar went on and on, rambling about love and honor. It must have been twenty-five or thirty years since she last saw the woman. Then, she’d made Atuat feel inadequate — a feat, really. She was reserved, sharp, and ruthless in conversation. An intense and creative bender. Exceptionally beautiful too — but Kuruk’s hopeless love for her made no sense. What a cold doe-bitch she was.

Tiguak’s angular, clean-shaven face took on a harrowing expression — he’d need a moment to contain his resentment. He and Kuruk had been childhood friends, inseparable down to when Kuruk was announced the Avatar. It was largely accepted in the Tribe that Kuruk’s companions were accountable for his disgrace. They travelled with him, took advantage of his friendly, easy-going nature, gained prominence and power from his company, corrupted his spirit and abandoned him. When the Avatar made it back to Agna Qel’a, he was broken and alone. Tiguak agreed, no doubt. Hei-Ran’s reputation didn’t help either. He took a deep breath and stared at the ground.

“It is an honor to welcome the Avatar’s companions.” — It was Amaruq speaking: “I trust that you, particularly, are committed to Avatar Yun.” Rangi hesitated. “Yes, sir. I served the Avatar by demand of my mother and by principle. Though, we share a deep friendship as well. I was his bodyguard and she, his fire bending master.” The girl paused, attentive to their reaction. “And how can our healers be of assistance?” “My mother was poisoned at the Avatar’s estate. Her body is in complete paralysis.” — Rangi turned to Atuat, recognizing her as the healer in charge: “Her breathing is regular, but shallow. She’s been sustaining a fever ever since we crossed the Western Air Temple Parallel. I’ve been feeding her only soup and porridge for fear of her choking. She’s so weak and in so much pain.” She stopped, involuntarily this time, struggling to contain her tears.

Atuat opened her arms to hug the girl — she looked perfectly like her mother, only she was frightened. Rangi accepted the hug, unmoving, and gawked at the men over the healer’s head. “I'm sorry.” She whispered. “What about the other companions?” Tiguak had finally got ahold of his emotions. Rangi followed along, but her silence was uneasy. She straightened up, composed her features and cleared her throat. “They're dead.” She eventually confessed. Nobody appeared to be moved, though that meant Amak was dead as well. “And the Avatar?” She made another long pause. “The Avatar is alive. That's all I know.”

The Counselor was clearly unhappy with her answers. She had been locked down in the basement. Her head had been covered. She didn’t know what had happened. She was released by friends and found her mother in the infirmary, still unconscious. Many were dead. The Avatar had escaped. Yes, she did fail her duty. No, she did not know why she’d been spared. Yokoya has a port, but very few ships stop there. Yes, the way to Quinchao had been trying. No, she had not been running. She sought the protection of a Fire Nation ship. There had been no blunders, she concluded. Moreover, Chieftain Amaruq’s welcome had been warm. She could breath. Her company might even think she was at ease.

Still, on their way to the Healing Center, the white walls and walkways were more oppressing than she could have imagined. It was hard to keep her eyes open, to walk through the snow and face the dreadful cold. They moved slowly and once they’d made their way through the excitable residents by the ship, the city seemed barer at every turn. Agna Qel’a, the great capital of The Northern Water Tribe, was nothing like the Imperial City or Ba Sing Se. She missed home. Not even Sei’naka. Yokoya would have been enough. She missed Kyoshi. And Yun. And she missed her mother. A dark heap of animal skin hovered ahead them on a sled. She had covered Hei-Ran in every piece of wool and fur they’d had back at the estate. After eight weeks of travel, everything reeked. It was nauseating.

The two guards driving the sled stopped its motion by pushing the heals of their hands in a wide, circular motion toward the frozen avenue. They stood opposite a building larger than most in that part of the city. It was framed by wide, lavish columns and topped by domes that varied in size and opacity. Through a large arched passageway, Rangi could see the interior was fully lined with thick, intricately composed, white and blue tapestries. Further down the hall, there were women of all ages, moving deliberately from room to room. The hall’s oil lamps provided a bright and steady light that warmed even the frozen exterior. The two male masters said their goodbyes and wished her mother a thorough recovery before they started to the Palace, surrounded by armed guards. While she pondered what to do or say, the men who had pushed the sled picked up Hei-Ran’s stretcher and moved her to a back room.

As they crossed the entrance, numerous women about Rangi's age came rushing toward them. Some carried books. Others, herbs and solutions unknown to her. One of them held a large piece of animal fat. All sought their mentor’s guidance. “Focus on substances that withstand high temperatures and are lethal in small amounts.” Master Atuat instructed the first group in a lively tone. She’d sent a messenger ahead, but Rangi had kept some particulars until they were alone. “Nothing that will reduce alertness.” She told the group carrying herbs. “But, the pain…” One of them started. “We don’t know how she survived. Let’s try and not kill her.” Turning to the woman with a slab of fat: “That’s enough. Get some tundra-whites’ liver.” Lastly, she addressed the room with a loud, high-pitched complaint: “Where is Newen? That old muskox-sloth!”

No one had time to answer, as an agonizing shriek came from one of the back rooms. The entire hall turned toward the scream and saw a young woman running out of Hei-Ran’s room with her left hand clasping the right to her chest: “She burned me!” The healer cried. “Thank Yangchen!” Rangi responded, impulsively. Her mother had been unable to move, let alone bend — whatever had happened was miraculous. Then, it downed on her what she had said. “I'm sorry! I’m so sorry! How can I help?” Master Atuat let out a hearty laugh and took the healer’s hand with her own, covered by glassy, shiny water. Immediately, Rangi thought, the woman’s palm was no longer red and she was calm again. “What happened here?” Master Atuat asked, smiling, as she let go of the young healer’s hand and entered the back room. Rangi and the other women came in close behind her.

Hei-Ran laid on a bed, asleep. Her skin was pale, dull, and taut over her face, ribs, and shoulders. Her emaciation more evident under the lamp light. “Master, please allow me.” The young woman came back into the now crowded room: “I was examining her breathing and when I placed my hand above her stomach, her skin burnt mine. You can see my skin on hers.” She pointed at Hei-Ran’s bare chest and looked at the senior healers. Rangi trembled — the burnt remains were repulsive, but Master Atuat promptly covered her hands in water and removed them. Then, she started her examination. Hei-Ran’s own skin was unharmed by the heat. The healer listened to her heartbeat and breathing and touched her forehead and lips. She wasn’t concerned with being singed. Her movements were decisive and consistent.

She reached for more water and went through Hei-Ran’s chi paths. When her hands came to the stomach, she smirked and teased: “Is anyone else feeling heated?” Hei-Ran’s face moved, but barely. At that point, the back room was positively warmer than the hall. Rangi’d thought it was her own commotion that had increased the temperature, but she was wrong. Hei-Ran had been using her fire breath. “If my mother's in control of the heat, why the fever?” The healer studied her for a short moment and then asked, condescendingly: “Where does fire bending come from?” “From the breath, but I don’t understand…” “Do you think about it every time you breath?” “No, but still…” “Her breathing is impaired! It’s causing the fever!” The burnt woman exclaimed with contentment. Master Atuat sneered at her, but agreed. The other senior healers and their mentees agreed as well, though they looked concerned.

“Hanne, take the Lieutenant to the meditation room. We need to assess your idea.” The small woman took Rangi’s arm and attempted to move her, but she pushed her back. “I'm not leaving my mother! What are you doing?” Rangi’s reaction had been stronger than intended and she had to change her stance briskly to keep Hanne form falling. She knocked down two vases in the process. “I'm sorry. Again. But what is happening? Why can’t I be here?” Her body was tense with apprehension. Master Atuat sighted and held her hands: “We’ll need to bend the water in your mother’s muscles to get her to breath properly. This should control the fever. But, it’ll hurt. It’ll hurt a lot, dear.”

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As Amaruq and Tiguak entered the Palace courtyard, the armed guards dispersed, allowing them to speak privately. This hadn’t been the first time he’d been embarrassed in such a discussion — the Avatar’s custody was the only issue besides his own parent’s death that disrupted his complete emotional control. It was unfortunate too, considering the Tribe’s main commercial partners were in the Earth Kingdom’s northern and northeastern coasts — most, if not all, under Jianzhu’s control. “We have an extraordinary opportunity to strengthen our ties with the Earth Kingdom.” “You are talking about a man’s death, Master Tiguak. And, as you’ve said, we have no confirmation of Master Jianzhu’s passing.”

“What I mean, sir, is only that we’ll not avoid the Earth Sages’ disputes with neutrality. In all likelihood, if this attack did happen and if it was carried out by one of Jianzhu’s adversaries, we’ll be in a much more critical position with regards to the Earth King if we attempt to be neutral. May I remind you, sir, that Bin-Er…” “Tiguak. I appreciate your concerns. But I don’t believe you’re unbiased when it comes to these matters.” The man’s broad and weathered features were unbothered. He had known Kuruk as a child, he’d seen him bend earth side by side his parents and the Sages, he’d witnessed his sickness and seen him go through a slow, agonizing death. Still, Amaruq would trust a child to the very same people who’d broken and abandoned his friend.

“Hei-Ran Sei’naka is a murderer. Though, my worries over the Avatar’s wellbeing are unrelated to the diplomatic problem we have at hand. We’ve been warned about a radical threat to our neighbor’s political status quo and we might very well hold its two perpetrators.” Amaruq laughed loudly, moving his entire body. “You think that crying girl poisoned her mother to cover their tracks?” Then, another less amusing thought must have crossed his mind, as his expression became severe: “What do you propose we do? Deny our healer’s care to a high-commander of the Fire Navy?” Tiguak cursed the old men’s passionate nature. He was prone to hasty, disproportionate action and expected the same ignorance from everyone around him. He paused and then said, with exaggerated reluctance: “Sir, I simply propose that we acknowledge the High-Commander’s arrival to the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation authorities and that we proceed by studying the events that led her here. If you approve, sir, I believe the Earth King and his Sages would appreciate intelligence from the Kilauea’s Captain and crew. It would be reasonable to interrogate the two women as well — since they’ll be our responsibility for an extended period of time.”

Amaruq considered Tiguak’s proposal as they climbed the last set of stairs to the Palace and the entry guards bent the great doors open. Master Newen and his mentee, Nanuq, awaited them in the main hall. They shared an unusual similarity. From behind, he had to tell them apart by the shade of their long braids or by the slight drop of the older man's shoulders. When they turned, however, their temperaments were remarkably at odds: “How can we be of service?” Newen’s voice was particularly coarse that day. His tone, dismissive as always. He was a harsh, uncompromising man. But honest, nonetheless. Tiguak thought it convenient: “Why don’t we talk over a game of Pai Sho? I recall young Master Nanuq is an exceptional player.” “Finally a good idea from you, Master Tiguak.” Amaruq agreed, harshly.

The Counselor had insisted on the pairings. Nanuq was a great Pai Sho player and might give Amaruq a chance to win. This was fine, as he enjoyed the challenge. Besides, the Chieftain’s lightheartedness was a pleasant change for him, who spent most days with Master Newen. He appreciated his father’s company and admired his expertise, but the old man was not easy. It was particularly hard to watch him grouch like this about such reasonable demands. Nanuq had spent his teen years trying to get Master Atuat to teach him proper blood bending. Every time he’d thought she’d agree to mentor him, his father denied the healers something they needed: exceptional access to the services’ indexes and inventory, funds for imports and travel expenses, more comprehensive training for the girls. He’d give them nothing. Apart their knowledge, they could only deny their services — and they wouldn’t do that. His father, to the contrary, was happy to do so: “I’ll not work at the Center.” “I'll not ask you to.”

“I simply need you to talk with Atuat and advise her.” Tiguak continued. They’d been primed about the High-Commander’s importance and condition as soon as they’d made port. It was common for people from all around to seek treatment in the Northern Water Tribe, and royals and prominent officials were those with easiest access to travel. “From what you wrote, your men is as good as dead. Maybe soak his body in the Oasis?” “This is no mere commander. Hei-Ran Sei’naka personally instructed Avatar Yun and Fire Lord Zoryu.” “Hei-Ran, huh? So that wimp, Zoryu, will take it personally.” His father said, crudely and with a lewd smile. “What about Master Amak?” Nanuq asked: “I thought he’d joined Master Jianzhu.” “How’d you know about that?” The old man resented that Nanuq and his mentee had kept contact. Tiguak cleared his throat: “It appears he’s dead. We’ve been told the other companions are all dead.” “Then, I can’t help you.”

They concentrated on the game through the next few rounds. Tiguak needed time to change his father’s mind. It was true that if Amak hadn’t prepared the poison and if he hadn’t been prepared to deal with it, they wouldn’t know what to do. Amak had done all his training under his father’s guidance. He learned a great deal in Ba Sing Se, as well. It’d have taken someone incredibly knowledgeable to do him like that. “We don’t know that all of them were poisoned. Truly, we don’t know that they're all dead.” Tiguak sounded defeated. “You don’t know a lot of things.” “That’s part of the problem.” — he sighted — “We know that, well, we’re told that the poison was served with freshly steeped tea and that, except for the High-Commander, all who drank it died immediately. This happened in the southernmost Earth Kingdom, at the Avatar’s estate.”

“Someone in Jianzhu’s estate would have access to essentially anything, from anywhere.” “Exactly! Atuat will need all the guidance you can give her.” Amaruq was getting impatient. He always gave in to Newen, but that meant having Atuat trail him daily. The consequences of this particular quarrel could get way worse too. The newly crowned Fire Lord was not well regarded among the older men of the Tribe, but the jokes they told didn't mean actual hostility toward the Fire Nation. Denying hospitality to an Avatar companion in times of peace was a terrible diplomatic faux pas — if Zoryu didn't retaliate, Yun and the Earth Sages would still have reason to. And if Jianzhu was really dead, the situation only got more complicated.

“I thought you, of all people, would want that viper-ferret dead. You know, Kuruk’s legacy and what not…” Nanuq knew Tiguak as a kind and compassionate man — so, even coming from his father, the accusation was unexpected. "My personal suspicion of Hei-Ran's character and disapproval of her actions do not mean I wish her dead. And, as I’ve said, denying proper care might bring some unwanted consequences — from either the Fire Nation or the Earth Kingdom, or both.” “Or neither.” His father laughed while he and the other men became silent. They must have been as shocked at Newen as he was. “You're one to talk of a murderer.” Tiguak said — either out of spite or attempting a new strategy, Nanuq wasn’t sure. Newen grinned and looked at his son. He knew of his father’s practices — of Amak’s and the other services men’s as well. His views on them varied, but, generally, he avoided to comment. “Why’d you not attend to the High-Commander?” “I've got nothing against Hei-Ran. Fire Nation women are too savage for my taste, but it’s impossible to deny her beauty. What I refuse to do is work with that radical, Atuat.”

“I'd be happy to help.” Nanuq said, impulsively. “Although I don’t have Master Newen’s experience, I’ve spent the last five years studying toxins under his guidance. I’m sure I could be of assistance to Master Atuat.” “Perfect!” — said Tiguak — “I'll accompany you to the Center after our game is over. I still have to send a few fox-crows this evening.” The older men looked displeased with the solution. Newen’s reasons were obvious, but Nanuq was puzzled by the Chieftain’s response: “Leave Zoryu to me. I don’t want to risk you appearing too excited.” Amaruq said to Tiguak through clenched teeth. Nanuq tried to apologize but the Counselor was quicker: “I’m sure Fire Lord Zoryu will be pleased with your concern, sir. Now, since we're discussing matters of courtesy, why don’t we extend a warmer hand to the girl? We could prepare a reception dinner tomorrow evening. Perchance, honor Kuruk and Hei-Ran’s companionship with a water bending demonstration? It’d be a valuable opportunity to get some intelligence in a convivial setting.” “Do whatever pleases you, Tiguak, so long as you don’t create any more problems than I already have.” He got up and gestured to a servant, demanding the board be cleared. They were dismissed.

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“Do you want tea?” “What? Oh…” Hanne had her sit down on a skin mat over the tapestry. The meditation room was more dimly lit and, though there were no windows, colder than the rest of the building. “I'll get something calming.” “Wait! Talk to me, please.” Rangi had to get her bearings. “Have you had many people come from the Earth Kingdom recently? Anyone from Yokoya?” “Only you.” The woman was inhibited. She had reason to be afraid at this point. Rangi sighted, then let out a gentle, quiet laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “I know. Your reaction was only natural.” Hanne smiled kindly, but kept her distance. She was very small, very lean, very coy. Very plain, except for her tattoos. Her hair was short, like Rangi’s. Jianzhu’d pay for that — she thought, and then realized her mistake. “Nobody? Even from the northwestern Earth Kingdom?” “No.” Hanne shook her head and went through the heavy portieres to get the tea.

So none of the Sages had escaped, or at least, made it there. Good enough. They’d be secure until the next commercial ship arrived. Now she needed to consider Tiguak. The Water Tribes were known for their hospitality, so why was the Counselor so wary? Certainly, she was missing something. Tiguak was a recent addition to the Council. She hadn’t read about him in the Academy, nor encountered him at the Avatar’s estate. Hei-Ran’d have known about him. She wished her mother had been awake and coherent, but the fever had driven her senseless. Rangi didn’t want to think about that. She exhaled heavily, in an attempt to calm down and concentrate. What did she know? Tiguak was a middle-aged man, probably born in Agna Quel’a — though she didn’t know that. He would have known Kuruk, either way. He must have met Amak. He was a high-ranking official, so it was possible he knew Jianzhu, Hei-Ran and Kelsang. Had he been in correspondence with any of them? Most importantly, with Jianzhu? If so, had they been allies or adversaries?

“I thought Yokoya was down south.” Hanne said, in a bright tone, coming back into the room. ”It is. I'm only curious.” “There is another Fire National in recovery here. A Saowon man.” She was trying to sound friendly now. “Oh… I probably don’t know him, then.” Rangi lied. She thanked Hanne for the tea and waited until they’d both drank it to resume her inquiry: “Where can I get the port’s schedule? I need to write home.” “There’s a bureau near the harbor. But, we can procure a fox-crow from the Palace so you can write to your father.” Rangi hesitated — it’d be hard to lie about her father, though it’d be convenient. The Northern Water Tribe was not kind to unmarried women. Having a father would get her some much needed favor. “I’d like that. But I’ll visit the bureau, in case you can’t get the fox-crow.” Hanne nodded timidly and it came to Rangi — maybe Tiguak was simply an embittered man, disapproving of unmarried women. That was an easy answer, though. She needed to be certain.

“How hard would it be to get an audience with a counselor?” Rangi asked, trying to sound even. “It depends, really. Is it to do with the Avatar?” “In a way, yes.” Hanne’s eyes widened, possibly from admiration. It was still a great honor to be the Avatar’s companion. “Do you think I could talk to Master Tiguak? He seemed very kind at the port and on our way here.” Hanne hesitated: “I’d say yes. Tiguak is the youngest council member, so we usually go to him. He is, indeed, very kind — though, he doesn’t get involved in personal matters.” She blushed and looked away. Rangi moved closer to her and took her hand, gently. “If you don’t mind telling me, why’d you say that? I need to be on his good side. My mother and I depend on it.”

This was a delicate matter. Blood bending could be used to alter any function of the body, to command any organ. It could aid one’s digestion and one’s balance. It could ease or stop one’s breathing, accelerate or slow one’s heart. It could move one’s every muscle. It also could tear them apart. The healers were all too aware. The room was silent while she prepared Hei-Ran. Her short gasps punctuated the healers’ movements. Atuat knew the woman was not fully conscious, but addressed her anyway: “I'll do this slowly, so not to damage your muscles. It will hurt. However, the fever will kill you if we don’t stop it. We’ll do this a few times today, and then a few times the next day, until you can breath on your own again. My healers are working on a sedative to help you through the next sessions. It will only hurt this bad once. And after this you’ll feel better and we’ll let you sleep.”

They’d woken her up as a courtesy, but still had nothing to give her for the pain. Atuat tied ropes on the bedsides, so Hei-Ran would have something to hold onto and pull — though she was partially paralyzed and had no strength to do so. The younger healers were sent outside, as there was little they could do to help. Everyone who was not needed went to wait in the hall or removed themselves altogether. Non-consensual blood bending was not something to watch. “This is necessary.” Atuat reminded the other healers, aware she was the one who needed to hear it. They made the last preparations and she took her stance.

Hanne was interrupted by shouting and loud splashing sounds. She rose to her feet and held onto Rangi, who was already up: “Something’s wrong. Wait here.” She wouldn’t. They ran together through the portieres, to the hall, and into the back room. The shouting had ceased, but now the room was filled with murmuring. The women inside were soaking wet and short-winded. The tapestries behind the bed were scorched black. Master Atuat sat by Hei-Ran, hair and clothes dripping. “You’ve got some lungs!” Atuat exclaimed, still catching her breath. She got up without acknowledging them and started to dry Hei-Ran and the far side of the room, by the bed. Rangi’s mother was wide-awake, shuddering, hair across her face. The other healers took the cue and bended the water from the tapestries into vases by the room’s four corners, while Rangi and Hanne stood by the entrance.

“I'm here!” The voice behind them came from a tall woman with long black hair falling over her shoulders. She was tastefully dressed and well adorned — a noble. “I've got some news! And the water you wanted, Auntie.” “Not now, Ila. Master Atuat’s occupied.” Hanne grunted, turning to the woman. Master Atuat went back to Hei-Ran’s bed and covered her with blankets. Then, she sat by her side and held her until she stopped shuddering. Her mother whispered something to the healer and she answered in a gentle and encouraging manner. Rangi didn’t catch what they’d said, as Hanne and Ila were still hassling right by her side. She was excited to see Hei-Ran conscious again — but it was appalling how she withered. How weak and unkempt she was. Rangi had done her best to keep her mother fed and clean, but it evidently hadn’t been enough. She’d failed her, like she’d failed Kyoshi and Yun.

As Rangi walked toward them, Master Atuat moved Hei-Ran’s hair away from her face. “You’re dangerous.” She heard her mother say with a throaty voice and a pained smile. Rangi sat by the bedside, moved the healer’s hands, and took to untangling her mother’s hair. “How do you feel?” “Like a saber-tooth moose lion ran over me.” She struggled to speak. Master Atuat held her so that another healer could slide a pillow beneath her torso. “I need to examine you further.” She said, moving the blankets and covering her hands with water: “Do you feel this?” Hei-Ran nodded. “Any numbness?” “No. Not anymore.” “Newen will need to know about any other signs or symptoms.” She said and continued her examination by pressing on Hei-Ran’s kidneys and liver, then her stomach and intestines.

“Auntie. Master Newen is not coming.” “What?” She got up, hastily, to face Ila. “I overheard my uncle and him. He’s still bitter about the shipments, I think. But here! I got the Spirit water.” She handed Master Atuat a small vial with childlike excitement. “This won’t do. Her kidneys are overworked but not damaged. The water won’t cleanse the poison, she needs an antidote.” She twitched her hands, cracked her knuckles and looked around the room. Then, she turned to Hanne: “Find the girls in the library. Tell them the poison only attacked her muscles. Her pulse is slow and weak, and her breathing’s restricted. Ask what they have on Yokoya’s vegetation and if there are any signs we should sieve through.”

“Ila,” — she continued: “What else have you heard?” “Not much. Uncle sounded exasperated and Counselor Tiguak was uneasy, but I didn’t get what they were saying.” “That’s good. Your uncle may be able to sway Newen. I’ll talk to him.” Rangi was puzzled as to what that meant. Without letting go of her mother’s hair, she asked: “Who’s Master Newen? Is he a Counselor?” “No, child. Newen is a scoundrel who commands the services’ resources. He’s an expert on toxins as well. I believe you met my brother, Amak. He was Newen’s student.” She seemed unmoved, but Rangi was shook. Amak had died a terrible death. His body lost at sea. “I'm sorry. I didn’t know Master Amak was your brother. My condolences.” “Don’t bother. A mink-prick, he was.” Hei-Ran let out a small laugh in agreement and Master Atuat looked intently at her: “Did he drink the same poison as your mother?” “No… He died in battle, at the Southern Sea.” “Good. That’s good.”

Rangi was still at a loss. She combed through Hei-Ran’s hair with brisk movements, watching the healers come and go. Master Atuat gave them orders. Her mother slept. She sat there. Her thoughts in disarray. She knew Tiguak posed a problem to them — but what was it? Did Newen have something to do with it? Did Tiguak convince him to abandon his duty? Eventually, she turned to Master Atuat and asked, with all the composure she could manage: “Why won’t Master Newen attend to my mother?” The healer looked at Rangi with kindness: “Newen doesn’t appreciate the Women’s Council’s rapport with Chieftain Amaruq. We’ll get an antidote without him, don’t you worry.” “And Tiguak?” “Tiguak. Well, he’s not a Hei-Ran enthusiast.” She laughed: “Regardless. He’s a diplomat above all else.”

Chapter Text

They were headed to the Pokat, a large theatre near the Palace courtyard. Its walls were curved into a quarter dome and adorned by carvings. At its peak, the construction was cut by the Tundra’s Precipice. As Master Atuat had instructed, Rangi accompanied Ila and her sisters on their way to the theatre. The group walked at a languid pace, as they passed and greeted many more men and women. The deep blues and browns on their clothes contrasted beautifully with the stark white avenues. The beads and gems complimented the intricate architecture that surrounded them. Everyone sounded excited as they discussed politics, the Kilauea, or a recent hunting excursion. Ila and her sisters were completely integrated — they walked through the avenues in their best court behavior, unbothered by the temperature or the light. Rangi wondered if she’d ever get accustomed to these conditions.

Hanne was there as well — though she wasn’t as content as the other women. She’d passed the night by Rangi’s side, tending to Hei-Ran in between blood bending sessions. She’d made sure Rangi had dinner and some peace in the meditating room. She’d made sure to be with her when Hei-Ran received her treatment. Master Atuat may have instructed her to come to the theatre — but it was more likely she’d decided Rangi needed the company. She seemed to be a prime example of what Rangi had read about the Water Tribes. She’d asked about her connection with her parents and tried to sooth her during Hei-Ran’s atrocious treatment. She’d helped her pick appropriate clothing and explained customs unknown to her. She’d done it all with such peace and sensitivity that Rangi had no choice but to let her guard down — though she hadn't said anything important. She wasn’t her mother, but she wasn’t stupid. Now, however, Hanne’s expression had none of that kindness.

“Uncle will announce the next trial tonight, so there’s really no —” Ila cut her younger sister mid sentence: “Don’t be silly. Oki’s sixteen. He’s not passing this season’s trial.” “Let Taqqiq be, Ila. Oki’s a capable young man.” It was Inga talking — or perhaps Ylva, Rangi wasn’t sure. “She's cranky because Ikiaq hasn’t passed his trial yet! Ila’s never getting married!” Taqqiq exclaimed, prompting Hanne to pull on Rangi’s sleeve: “She doesn’t care a bit about Ikiaq.” She whispered. “What are these trials they’re talking about?” Rangi asked. “A hunting trial is a rite to make boys into men — one which Hanne will never pass. So maybe she shouldn’t talk about it to strangers.” Ila sounded cranky alright, but Hanne was red with anger: “I could take it again, if I wanted! And who are you to talk when you can’t even throw a spear?!” “I don’t need to. I’m not a man and I don’t pretend to be one.” Ila’s retort was accompanied by her younger sisters’ singing: “Hanne’s a hermit crab-wolf! A hermit crab-wolf” “And she’s not even good at it!”

“You three, stop that! Somebody’s going to hear.” — Inga told the group, holding onto the smaller girls’ shoulders. Then, she turned to Ila and whispered: “You’re not a child. Behave.” So, they entered the Pokat’s Great Hall in silence, as countless voices encompassed them. She’d read that the Southern and Northern Water Tribes practiced storytelling, singing, dancing, water bending, and many other ceremonial activities in grand events — but this was much greater than she’d have expected. Hanne had explained that gatherings such as this took place once a week in prosperous seasons and once a month in meager ones, varying in size according to the game available, the trading schedule, the nomadic groups’ comings and goings, and the court’s disposition. What she’d neglected to mention was that the entire ruling class would be in attendance. There must have been more than three hundred people there, between nobles, councilmen and women, diplomats, high military personnel, healers, as well as artists and servants. This is perfect, Rangi thought as she inspected the hall.

There. There was Counselor Tiguak, already on his way to greet them: “What a pleasure to see the seven of you together. Inga and Ila will be great company for you, Lieutenant. Right, girls?” They smiled, silently, and gestured in agreement. “Now, why don’t you find your seats? Your uncle will sound the drums in no time.” The sisters moved in unison. Rangi and Hanne accompanied them, maintaining some distance. Now that they were protected from the unwavering sunshine, she was able to examine the men in greater detail. Though they kept the conversation lively and their tone convivial, they looked severe. They studied her openly — and not as rigorous mentors or commandants would do. These were wary men, distressed by her presence. But why? The nations lived a lengthy period of peace since Avatar Yangchen ended the embargo. Fire Lord Zoryu abided by the Yangchen Treaties. The Northern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation traded regularly. The Kilauea was a standard Fire Nation ship, manned by honored navy men and women. She, personally, had done nothing to aggrieve them.

The women weren’t as openly bothered by her presence as the men. She noticed they were in much smaller number and appeared to be divided in two or three groups. The younger and middle-aged women had their hair done in intricate styles, adorned with beads, their busts and ears covered with gems. These women came to Inga and Ila with pleasantries and wide smiles, though none approached her. Agna Qel’a’s court matched the Imperial City’s in its pettiness, as well as in its exuberance. The remaining women, middle-aged and elderly, were dressed more plainly. Their clothes and demeanor resembled the men’s and, indeed, these were the only women to converse with them. Rangi had seen some of them during the night, discussing with Master Atuat by Hei-Ran’s bedroom or assisting on sessions and examinations. Here, they maintained their distance.

Their group went down a winding staircase and crossed into the theatre, where ten tables faced a large, semi-circular stage. The tables were arranged in three groups, separated by two great pillars. These were decorated with dark sei-killers’ bones that depicted two large koi schools spinning around the pillar on the right and the moon phases on the one on the left. The sisters led Rangi to the fourth central table and sat her between Ila and Ylva. Taqqiq, Siqniq, and other small children sat to her right. Hanne had stayed behind and sat with the younger noble women at the third slanted table by the koi pillar. The older women sat at the second and third tables near the moon pillar and the men occupied those as well as the center tables. Counselor Tiguak sat at the second center table, sided by men who looked ten or twenty years older than him. To his right were two older women and an empty seat. Master Atuat was late, it seemed.

She was tired and uneasy — agitated, really. She hadn't slept at all. She'd eaten something hours earlier, but didn’t remember what. She'd gotten her hair up and changed her clothes in a hurry and there she was, on her way to the Pokat. She was accustomed to long nights. She'd spent upwards of eighteen hours relieving cursed servicemen, assisting births, sewing wounds and amputating limbs — hunting, even, though those days had passed her. Every time, she’d been ready. She’d known exactly what was going on. Not then. She had examined every muscle, nerve and chi path on Hei-Ran's body over and over and, still, she didn’t know what was amiss. What had the tea actually done to her body. To make it even worse, Nanuq and her healers had gone through tomes, reports and letters and reduced the possible causes to, alas, three herbs, two roots, two blossoms, and a kina — most with no known antidotes. Oh, yes, it might have been thread oil as well! Sure, it might.

Her options were motley and messy. As she passed the guards at the theater doors and waved to other tardy guests, she recalled the antidotes and treatments they’d considered the previous night: milk birch almonds can counter the hemlock root’s toxin and bacui berries can reduce the reaction to yellow jasmin tea, but in case the hemlock root had been mixed with thread oil, bacui berries would shut down Hei-Ran’s organs. The sumac ginseng root can counter the passion mint’s toxin, but it causes catatonia when mixed with yellow jasmin. Every other possibility they had considered led to the same problem. She went down the stairs slowly, still considering her options. The documents they had studied advised symptomatic treatments, she recalled as she walked toward the center tables. The problem stayed the same. She could use evergreen myrtle to raise Hei-Ran’s pressure, unless she’d eaten azalea honey. She could use black cypress cream to sooth her pain, unless there had been white snake root in her tea. She could… snap: “You! You know what was on that damned tea.” She groaned and punched the table across Newen, making the silverware and glasses tumble.

“That's no way to ask a favor.” She maintained her eyes level with his, expecting whatever condescending prod he’d come up with next. “I'm sorry about your brother.” That wasn’t it. She made a dismissive sound and averted her eyes. Now, he was the one staring her down. “He died as he’d have wanted.” “I think he’d rather not have died at all!” Newen’s contorted grin grounded her: “This is not personal. It’s not about the Women’s Council. This is about someone’s health — and it has potential to be a diplomatic crisis, Newen.” He laughed dramatically, head leaning back and hands in the air: “You’re not kidding anyone. Every Fire Nation woman that steps in Agna Qel’a is personal to you.” “You're disgusting.” “From what I’ve heard, so are you.” He leaned over the table and took her hand: “Why don’t you go seat with your husband, right there?” He said, as she pulled her hand back. “He's got the wives he needs where he needs them.” “Yes, he does. And that’s why you have no children.” “Better than having one and leaving them.”

Newen moved his weight, leaning back on the chair: “Since you mention him… How’s the kid? Why is he not done?” She took a deep breath and considered Newen’s temper: “Nanuq is a great kid. He’s dedicated and kind.” — she paused, but then admitted: “He doesn’t have the experience to deal with whatever this is.” Newen grunted: “Idiot. He’s too kind.” “Whatever you mean?” “Your sweetheart should be dead. So why are you reading about survivors? Get that idiot you think is so hard-working to capture some lemming-monkeys and get to work.” Atuat stepped back, her eyes at Newen’s to make sure she understood. There were worse ideas. “I'd need —“ “Yes, that’s why you’ve got the kid, right?” “Sure.” She said, turning her head as she noticed Amaruq getting up the stage. “Thank you, Newen.” She murmured as she walked toward her seat. “My pleasure.”