Chapter Text
✧
“Aang you take to the skies and Toph will cover the ground in the middle ring with Momo. Suki, Mai, Ty Lee and I will take Appa and search the lower ring. We’ll have a lot more ground to cover, so when you’re finished come help us. And remember– take the word of any King’s guard you run into lightly. They aren’t suspects, but we can’t rule them out yet. Dad and Bato have been searching all night and need to sleep, so for now it’ll just be us. No backup. Don’t take any unnecessary risks and call for help immediately. Aang,” Sokka turns to the airbender and holds out his hand, “whistle me.”
Aang drops the bison whistle in his palm and asks, “what if he’s not in the city?”
“Impossible. The city has been on lockdown since Zuko was taken, they couldn’t have gotten far.” It’s not just the airbender that looks to Sokka worriedly, nearly every member of their group is on edge. Even Mai has a gloomier disposition than usual. “We’re going to find him,” Sokka reassures.
“Damn right we will,” Suki says, placing a supportive hand onto his shoulder.
From behind their huddle a glint of blue emerges from the shadows of the palace doors with a bag slung over her good shoulder. Slipping away quietly while Suki finishes the debrief, he walks hurriedly to Katara, grabs her good arm (careful to avoid the wrist wrapped in a splint and bandages), and tugs his sister away from the group. “Absolutely not,” Sokka demands as she squirms in his grasp.
“You’re not leaving me behind,” she retorts.
“Funny,” Sokka whispers, trying to avoid attention from their friends, “cause you’re not coming with.”
“You don’t even know who to look for!” Her lamenting may not have alerted their friends, but the nearby guards on duty glance over, suspicious of Sokka’s tight grip on her arm.
“We’ve all studied your descriptions. Plus, they were masked up so you don’t know anymore than we do.”
Katara grunts, trying to wring her arm out of his grasp. “You can’t force me to stay behind.”
“I know,” he sighs and lets go and softly traps her shoulders under his palms to keep her from running off. “That’s why I’m asking.”
“You can’t do this without me!” His sister sobs, “you need me!”
“I never said I didn’t.” Sokka pauses, expecting Katara to keep berating him, but she suddenly falls silent.
He knows how she feels, more than anyone. Sokka was forced to sit still after his leg broke while the rest of his friends liberated the Earth Kingdom. Forced to abandon his sister in enemy territory with no idea of how long they'd be separated. He knows the itch, the festering scratch in the back of her mind telling her to get up and fight. He also remembers Suki- Yue bless her, ordering him to rest through pleads of encouragement. "You can't do much for your sister in this state," she told him with lips pressed to his temple, "the best you can do is trust her and give yourself time to recover. I'm not bringing you to her more broken than you already are."
“You need to heal,” he continues. “That already takes so much out of you and that head injury is no joke. I can’t risk your safety when we don’t know what we’re walking into. I can’t have you going into a fight like this. I–” A sigh escapes his lips, “I can’t lose you too.”
It’s that same face she made after icing Jet against the large redwood tree on the cliff above the flooded Fire Nation Colony: a hint of confusion, sadness, and defiant acceptance. Katara huffs a gust of air that flings a stray hair out of her face. “Three days,” she grumbled. “You have three days and then I’m coming no matter what.”
Sokka finally releases his grasp and says, relieved, “deal.”
“We need a better system,” Sokka tells Suki as he discards his tunic for a sleep tank and yawns loudly, grimacing at his sore muscles while climbing into bed.
“We have to let Ty Lee and Mai go on their own, we’ll cover more ground that way.” He grunts, not at all satisfied with the suggestion. Disregarding his sour expression Suki coos in an attempt to persuade him, “my love, it’s the only way to find him. The longer he’s missing the less of a chance we have of finding him.”
“They have no way to contact us.” Sokka grumbles longingly, “I miss hawky.”
Suki places a peck to his lips as she joins him under the sheets. “We’ll keep them close by,” she promises. “They’ll have each other.”
He hates this. In fact, he hates everything about this situation.
Mai and Ty Lee are skilled, but they don’t know what they’re up against. None of them do. The Firelord has so many enemies, Sokka has no idea where to start investigating. Katara’s clue hinting that a Dai Li member was a part of the attack clearly makes Vee a likely candidate, though the minister genuinely seemed confused by her agency’s involvement. Sokka's first impression of the minister differed greatly from Katara's; Vee was a narcissistic turd blossom, but his gut told him that she wasn't a real threat. The Earth King's fiancé wasn’t his favorite person either, but Sokka can’t help but feel that she isn’t their guy. Father was right, she was innocent until proven guilty.
It’s possible some members could be acting on their own accord, but the Dai Li are soldiers– the Earth Kingdom’s finest attack dogs, there is no way one would bite without a firm hand instructing them to attack. Ozai loyalists would be his next guess, but why would an earthbender want that freak back on the throne. On top of the fact that Katara recognized one of their attackers to be a waterbending child ultimately points him to some sort of colonist uprising. But a waterbender living in a Fire Nation Colony? None of it makes any sense…
Mulling through the facts in his mind, Sokka eventually falls into a deep sleep. Exhausted from the long hunt around the endless city he finds himself restlessly dreaming through flashes of nightmares that he can’t quite remember. Suddenly, their bedroom door creaks open and Sokka jolts awake, prepared to throw his boomerang.
“Relax.” Recognizing the voice, he waits for his eyes to slowly adjust, finding that familiar figure of blue standing at the foot of their bed. “It’s just me,” she says with a sniffle.
“Katara?” He responds groggily.
Suki simply lifts the covers and mutters, “c’mere.” Katara immediately crosses to Suki’s side and curls into his girlfriend’s arm.
Sokka sets his boomerang down, leans over the cuddled pair, and strokes his sister’s head. “Bad dream?” He asks.
Her head nods weakly, “can’t sleep in there.”
Sokka exhales defeatedly before pressing a kiss to each of his girls heads and rolls back to his side, sleeplessly unsettled by the current change of tide.
☾
“That is the dumbest answer I’ve ever heard!”
“You’re just jealous because you know you can’t come up with something better!”
“No, no, no– don’t put words into my mouth,” Zuko jokingly warned and placed the tray of steaming mugs onto the side table next to the decorative couch at the foot of his bed where Katara lay.
“You can’t tell me that living on a pirate ship wouldn’t be awesome,” she argued.
“I lived on a boat for three years of my life, so I can confidently say from experience: absolutely never again.” As Zuko went to sit she swung her feet to sit up and make space, but he quickly grabbed her legs and placed them onto his lap. “Plus, I’ve worked with pirates before and– if I remember correctly, you don’t have the best reputation with them either, you little thief.”
“Hey– they stole it first!”
“Yes, and you almost got yourself murdered trying to right that wrong.”
“If I remember correctly,” she mocked, “you played a key point to aid them in achieving that goal.” At first, he glowered at the statement and Katara was immediately about to take it back, worried that her teasing might have gone too far, but the concern subsided when he broke into a smile as if to say, gotcha .
“You’re not wrong,” he breathed through a chuckle. “But I can’t imagine that even after all of that, you’d still want to live on a pirate ship.” His hand finally detached from her ankle to wrap around the back of the seat. “What about it is so appealing to you?”
It really wasn’t meant to be a serious answer, it was just her immediate thought that came off the top of her head. A common experience between them that she hoped would get a rise out of Zuko. Though, the more she thinks about the possibility, the more appealing it actually seems.
“I always liked boats– being on the water and surrounded by my element. It makes me feel more connected with my surroundings. More than being on land ever did.” He stays silent allowing her to finish the confession, “home felt like that too. Being surrounded by ice constantly.”
“Are you able to ‘see’ like Toph does– through the ice?” Zuko wonders aloud.
“No. At least not in the same way, I don’t think.” To be honest, she’s never really thought about it before. It was just sort of an innate sense that she never tried to put into words. “I can feel ripples and sense small fluctuations, but I can’t see per se.” She chuckles soberly and admits, “the winter after my mother passed I thought that I had this sense– a strange feeling that I could still feel her around the village. It always came from the snow; if I walked through a path she would frequent daily or just sat in our hut, part of me felt like I could still feel her there. Like a hidden memory replaying in my mind from this strange and new perspective… It always felt so real.” Zuko’s smile faded, studying her words carefully. “Soon enough,” she explained, “the snow melted and so did she. I never really thought much about it, but it started to become this sense I carried with me. Rivers don’t hold much for very long, they flow too quickly to hold onto any specific memories. It’s always strongest with still water, like snow or lakes. Sometimes ponds.”
Katara was convinced she’d lost him when Zuko leaned his head back onto the footboard and his gaze followed the intricate woodwork of his bedroom ceiling, mindlessly tracing its pattern with a delicate finger against her ankle that was propped onto his lap. Katara sipped her tea while he considered her confession, effectively using the mug of black tea to hide her warming cheeks.
“I know,” she said, “it’s a pretty useless skill.”
“It’s beautiful.” He surprised her with a sudden fervor when his gaze met her again and asked, “can– Have you ever tried it for someone else?”
“Doing what?”
The tracing on her ankle halted, then he set his mug down and lifted her legs to stand. “I want to try something,” Zuko said, offering his hand to help her up. “Do you trust me?” Wordlessly, she entangled her hand with his and he led her out of the room and down the winding hallways of the Fire Nation Palace.
The palace garden was completely vacant under the moonlight. The moon was only half-lit, but she still felt a surge of its energy coursing through her veins. (Though, that could have just been the caffeinated tea.) Zuko led her past the line of torii’s that shielded them from the elements and onto the grassy courtyard. At first, she thought it was the fountain that he was leading her towards, but then she noticed it; a small pond resting beneath a stooping willow with long drooping branches that extended to the water, falling just too short to touch.
“My mom and I used to sit by this pond.” Zuko planted himself beside the coiling roots and gestured for her to join him. “Could you–” he paused when she kneeled in front of him in a moment of hesitancy. “Do you think there are any memories held here?”
“Perhaps,” she said, studying the starry reflection shining off its surface. With an extended finger, Katara tapped the static mirror and rippled the image into repetitive waves. “Has it been emptied since you last saw her?”
Zuko shrugged.
“Hm,” she hummed, luring a globe of the pond towards her and shaping the liquid into gloves. “Can I–” she asked, stopping before touching her gloved palms to his temples.
Zuko nodded.
Closing her eyes, she clasped Zuko’s face between her palms and began her search. Matters of the mind were much more abstract than bodily injuries– Jet was the only other person she had attempted to fix. Even then, she had surprised herself at the success. But this– she didn’t even know where to start with this. It wasn’t even a skill she had tried for herself, it was more like an intuition that she dismissed her whole life.
“We used to feed the turtle ducks,” Zuko shared, probably noticing her hesitation, “they were always in the pond– as long as Azula wasn’t practicing her firebending nearby.”
Suddenly, her physical senses shifted, morphing into something amorphous and perspicacious. A heavy rock splashing through an unmoving boundary that awakens her senses while a sudden heat searing just above the surface of her skin.
“Mom liked looking at the baby turtle ducks in spring,” Zuko said with a slight strain and she wondered; was he feeling the same thing she felt? “Sometimes she’d pick them up.”
A hand lightly tracing over the surface. Unrecognizable to Katara, but she knows a mother’s touch when she feels it. The hand traced over the surface, scooped up a handful beneath a baby flippers, then reunited with the body of water. The last thing she hears is a muffled voice utter, “Zuko .”
With thw voice calling out, memory faded and her healing hands dull. Katara opened her eyes to find Zuko grinning widely. “You’re- you're the most magnificent person I've ever met.”
Flustered by his compliment, she changed the subject, “you never told me yours.” Dropping her hands, Katara nervously placed them on top of her knees and asked, “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose?”
“Hira’a,” he said, “that’s where I’d go.”
The bright moonlight and willow did little to mask his wistful expression which made Katara wonder, “Why? Where is that?”
“It’s a small village on the southside of the main island.” His head dropped softly and tilted towards her with a far off look. “It’s where my mother is from.”
The front courtyard of Ba Sing Se is obviously built with fortifications meant for war. The large blocky stairs make it impossible to even reach the palace at the peak of the hill without dealing with an assortment of guards along the way. Katara should know since they themselves stormed the palace a little less than a year ago. Those towering stone walls at the base of the palace may have kept out firebenders, but they were no match for Appa back then. They still aren’t.
This is the second time Appa flew off with the search party, leaving her behind. Again. A feeling she’ll never get used to– being left behind, despite it being a recurring theme. They mean well , she reminds herself, trying to drown out the persistent pessimistic chatter overtaking her brain. Temptation nearly consumes her as Katara weighs the risk of denying her brother’s wishes and following them anyways. Eventually, the ache on the back of her skull and tight squeeze from the wrap adorning her wrist convinces her otherwise. After a few more moments of contemplation, she turns and starts her way back up the stairs. Guards now stand every few feet along the hidden alcoves that lie sequentially along the sides of the stairs are also teeming with guards. Security around the palace has heightened since the Firelord's disappearance. She definitely would not have been able to utilize the hiding spots rhythmically patterned along the staircase now, like she had a couple days ago.
She really tried to listen to what the young boy had been saying to the guard– something about working in the kitchen and having to run an errand for his superior. The excuse seemed fishy, the guard was right to question the boy, but before Katara could listen any further she quickly became distracted by Zuko’s breath tickling the back of her neck.
“This is pretty.”
“What is?” She turned, instinctively reaching for the faint movement just above her ear. Much to her surprise, she found Zuko’s fingers softly caressing the flower in her hair. She quickly pulled away, but his hand stayed, gently tracing the outer petals and hovering so close to her hair that she could feel the warmth radiating from his firebending physique. “Oh,” she said, trying to recall where they were and the danger they were hiding from mere seconds ago. In her flustered state she rambles, only blinking back into consciousness after claiming, “I should probably take it out.”
“No, leave it.” Zuko tucks a stray hand behind her ear and her heart races as he leans in closer to whisper, “it suits you.”
From the top of the stairs she can just make out Iroh’s rotund form hastily marching down the steps, distracted by a neatly folded letter in his hands. “Oh! Master Katara,” he exclaims, nearly missing her approaching presence completely, before quickly shoving the article into his tunic and a tight smile spreads across his face, squishing the bags under his eyes into a darkened wrinkled mound. “I was hoping to see you before my departure, how are you my dear?”
“Could be better,” she responds. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”
Iroh laughs regretfully, “more than you know.”
They pause in an uncomfortable silence, neither completely sure of what more there is to say. What is she supposed to say? “Sorry I got your nephew kidnapped and that you don’t even have time to grieve or help find him because you have to go back to the Fire Nation to act as Firelord until we find him again.” No. She can’t say that, because part of her refuses to believe it herself yet. If she were to say sorry, then she had to accept it too. Accept that he is gone.
“I was on my way to run an errand before I leave tomorrow morning,” Iroh finally says. “I’m afraid it won’t be an uplifting one and I– well I’ve been putting it off for a while now. I’m not too sure if I have the strength to do it alone…” Fear, she notes. It’s fear that radiates from the wise old man, an emotion she’s never seen from him before. Remembering Iroh is human and not all knowing is normally reassuring. Right now though, it is deeply unsettling.
“Can I join you?” She offers, hoping to ease his conscience.
Iroh's smile finally warms from its saddened undertone and holds out his arm, “I would love nothing more.”
She’s been keen to keep an eye out for Sokka and their friends as they stroll through the lower ring, hoping to avoid their search. It’s not like they were doing anything dangerous, but explaining why she defied her brother’s wishes and left the palace would only make her headache worse. Much to her surprise, Iroh takes her to the same district that Zuko showed her the night before it all went wrong. They don’t stop there though, he leads her past the fountain where they ate spicy pork dumplings, past the tea shop, and past the outdoor theater that is much less majestic and incredibly worn when exposed to broad daylight. Katara’s stomach churns as they walk in silence, until finally they reach a run down hut sandwiched between two dingy multi-leveled apartment buildings. She nearly expects the door to fall off its hinges when Iroh knocks.
“Coming,” a voice calls from inside. There’s a slight bump and ruffling before the door swings open, revealing an older woman. With fewer wrinkles and bright eyes, the woman seems younger than Iroh, but curly gray strands still string down the sides of her face. She wears regular Earth Kingdom scraps that most refugees are adorned with and holds an unusually large pack slung over her shoulder. At first her gaze is expectant, but suddenly drops once she sees who has come to call on her.
“Grand Lotus,” she says, “I was not expecting you, General Iroh.”
“I apologize for our intrusion Xai. May we come in?”
“Actually, as you can see,” she gestures to her bag, “I was just heading out. Walk with me?” She says and expectantly pushes through the pair, shutting the door behind her.
“You know who I am here for,” Iroh says and Xai stops, back still turned. “Please, I just wish to speak with Ur–”
“Do not use that name here,” she demands. Katara stands in silence, deciding the conversation has already ventured too far for her to introduce herself. “She’s not here.”
“Where can I find her?”
“I don’t know.” Xai shrugs, waves a hand signaling them to follow her, and walks on. “She ran off the other night.”
“What do you mean she ran off?” Iroh’s voice doesn’t raise, but shifts to an unexpected firmness that Katara had never heard before. “I specifically hired you to stay with her.”
“That was over a decade ago. She’s her own person, sometimes she needs her space.” Xai nervously glances at Katara, then back at Iroh. “Listen, she’s been getting into some bad shit– a nasty drug that makes her hallucinate and run off sometimes. I used to try and help her, but there’s little I can do.”
“I’m a healer,” Katara speaks up, completely unsure of who the two are referring to. She doesn’t need to know, she’s familiar with matters of a troubled mind. After all, she is a healer and if someone needs assistance it is her duty to help without judgment. “If you could help Iroh find who he’s looking for then I can help with the hallucinations.”
“You can do that? Heal matters of the mind?” Xai’s eyes widened at her comment, but there’s something else behind her pupils. Something Katara can’t quite grasp…
“I don’t know,” Katara says thinking back to when she healed Jet from the brainwashing done by the Dai Li. She thinks of sitting with Zuko beside the turtle pond, but hastily brushes the memory off and says, “but I can try.”
The indistinguishable expression fades as quick as it arrived and Xai sighs, “listen, I might know a couple spots where she might be, but she’ll probably get spooked if I bring you two. Let me find her and come back tomorrow night. We can talk more then.”
“I am set to leave the city tomorrow morning,” Iroh says softly.
“That’s the best I can do for you.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he hums, dissatisfied. “In case– If I can’t make it tomorrow, could you please give her this?” Iroh asks, revealing the letter from his tunic and holding it out to the gray haired woman.
Xai takes the letter and nods. “I’ll see what I can do,” she mimics. The conversation ends just as they stop in front of a theater– the same theater from her ‘not-date’.
Katara glances suspiciously at the familiar building. “Are you a performer?” She asks, trying to recall if Xai resembled any of the actors.
“Nope, just a stagehand. My job is more behind the scenes, pulling strings and whatnot.” Noticing her apprehension, Xai asks, “care to come inside Master Katara?” Hardly hearing the offer, she stands blankly staring at the roof across the street where her and Zuko resided.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
She laughed, trying to avoid his inspection by peering to the stars puncturing the blackened abyss above. He swiped a thumb beneath her waterline, drying it of any remaining tears. “You didn’t,” she croaked in admittance.
As her gaze trickled from the heavens and rooted itself back in the familiar glint of gold in front of her, she smiled. Partial from the embarrassment of her unbridled emotions, but mostly because of him. Of how far he had come and how grateful she was to see this side of him; a sympathetic, soothing version of him that she guaranteed most would never expect from the short-tempered firebender– she certainly never did. Worried pupils flickered back and forth as he inspected her visage before breaking into a soft tight-lipped smile. His warm hands drifted from her upturned cheeks and fell to the apex between her chin and neck. Pulling her face to his, she closed her eyes, utterly confused by what comes next. Is he trying to kiss me? she thought.
Instead, he delicately laid his lips across each eyelid and planted a final kiss between her brows. At first he lingered far enough away to the point that she hadn’t felt it, but when his lips pressed to her head she leaned into his touch, relishing the tingle of compassion and excitement it marked upon her skin. His hands instinctively flexed, gripping onto her chin and making her wonder what that grip would feel like on her waist or on her thigh or–
“There,” he said through parted lips as he detached from her head. His hands slid from her faintly flustered face. “All better.”
Iroh chirps, whipping her back to reality. “Tomorrow night,” he says. “That is when we will return.”
The journey back to the palace is silent, though a flurry of questions race through her mind. Who is Xai? Why did she address Iroh as ‘Grand Lotus’? And why did Katara get that familiar pit in her stomach in Xai’s presence– was it the circumstance of the location or was it something deeper that she somehow missed? Though the burning question she wants to ask rings louder than all the rest. Part of her feels like she may already know the answer and if she’s right, this is certainly not a conversation to have on a crowded tram. Besides, Iroh seems eased by the moment for quiet contemplation.
“Who were you searching for?” Katara waits to ask until they are back in the upper ring and nearly in sight of the palace.
There is no shift in Iroh’s face, no indication of shock or alarm from her question. “You are a dear for coming with me,” he momentarily dismisses her question before saying, “I hired Xai to watch over Zuko’s mother, Ursa, after she was banished from the Fire Nation,” Iroh admits.
Katara pauses, then asks, “Have they been here the entire time?”
“I don’t know,” she takes his hand and brushes his leathery thumb comfortingly. “Part of the agreement was to hide her from me as well. I was too involved with my brother as a double agent with the White Lotus to stay in contact with them.”
“But you knew where to find her now?”
Iroh nods, “I ran into them while we were refugees… I didn’t have the heart to tell Zuko then. He was sick and once he got better we were invited to the palace and suddenly he was captured by Azula and soon enough he had… Well, you know about the mistake he made.” Iroh pats his free hand on hers latched onto his as if she were the one that needed comforting. “I’ve felt so guilty, I thought maybe if I could bring Ursa back home with me then when he returns–” he stops short. “ If he returns, I can make my mistakes right and reunite a mother with her children.”
“ When we find Zuko.” Katara affirms.
Iroh smiles, but the sadness stricken across his face is hidden with disbelief. “When we find him,” he says anyway.
The next morning, Katara hung around the docks to see Iroh off. He had tried his best to stick around for another day, but the ministers were reported to be ‘running around like headless possum chickens with the news of Zuko’s disappearance. Their Nation was hardly stable enough to deal with the Firelord being gone for a couple weeks, much less however long this kidnapping might go on for.
After waving goodbye to Iroh from the shore, Katara found her father’s boat and busied herself with the shells she had found on the ocean floor of Chameleon bay. She made a braided bracelet out of a few and uses another of a pendant for a necklace with some old string she found lying around. She kept braiding and creating, until there was only one shell left– the small pearly conch with the rosy interior that Zuko had pointed out on the same ship that Iroh departed on earlier. After twirling the delicate object between her fingers for what felt like hours, she bent a microscopic needle pick, gently pierced a hole through the top, and tied an extra piece of string through the hole. Then she braided a strand of her own hair, a longer piece partially hidden behind her ear, and attaches the newly crafted bead at its end.
Just as she ties the braid off, her name echoes from the deck of the ship and suddenly Sokka is leaping down the stairs. “We found one,” he informs, panting heavily, “the Dai Li agent. We found him.”
No words are said as Katara follows her brother down the dock, onto the tram, and hurriedly rushing into the throne room. Keui sits on his throne and Hakoda by his side as they enter. The rest of their friends aren’t there, Katara can only assume that they are still out searching or taking a much needed rest after three days of nonstop investigating. She hates that she wasn’t there to help.
Her father is the first to speak, informing Katara as they enter. “He is being interrogated as we speak. We believe he was hired help for a bigger institution.”
“He may not have much information,” Kuei informs, “but we’re getting everything we can.”
“How do you know he’s telling the truth?” Katara questions.
“Believe me sweetheart.” A masked individual with unmistakable shaggy orange hair and a blood stained apron emerges from the shadows. “With my methods,” they say, slipping out of the black crow-like disguise, “he’s singing like a songbird.”
“Kiri?” Katara ponders confusedly, “what– I thought you were the royal tailor?”
“That, along with other skills.” They smirk, latching the eerie guise to their belt. “Let’s just say I have a unique fascination with sharp objects and human anatomy.”
“They have been extremely useful in weeding out Long Fei’s mole in my court.” Keui informs. “Though their methods are not exactly the most– savory, they come in handy.”
“Speaking of, your guy isn’t Dai Li. Not anymore, at least.” Kiri undresses the stained apron and shoves it onto a nearby guard’s hands with a wink and commands, “be a dear and wash this will ya?’ Their lackadaisical saunter towards Sokka makes Katara a bit suspicious of their intentions, but they quickly pivot and continue their testimony, “he fled after Azula’s rise to power. All he knows is that he was employed by a former Fire Nation general and his kid.”
Father speaks up, seemingly skeptical about the flamboyant character presented before him, “and you’re certain he was telling the truth?”
“My methods are foolproof,” Kiri forcingly affirms with a snap of their head. “Was odd though,” they hum, “he kept saying something about their base of operations being a playhouse.”
“Did he mention where exactly?” Katara asks.
“Some outdoor theater in the lower ring. Bit random.”
She must have been unable to hide her surprise on her face, because when Katara looks at Sokka he peers back at her with concern, questioning the connection forming in her mind. Katara reveals, “I think I know where to find them.”