[Author’s Note: Sorry about the lateness of this update – two unrelated computer malfunctions plus the starting of a new job kept me really, really tied up the past couple of weeks. I hope to get back on a regular schedule now, although that new job is still keeping me busy! – Sugeatarc ]
Chapter 9: The Flight
Aang bounded over to the washroom door and poked his head inside. “Hey, Mikka, you in here? It’s okay, these people are all friends.” The washroom was silent and empty, but Aang spotted a bundle of something in the corner. It turned out to be Mikka’s new blue and gray top.
Aang popped back out into the main room and held up the shirt, interrupting Lu Ten’s explanation to the gathered crowd of exactly who Mikka was and why they wanted to find him. “He left this.”
“Hey!” Sokka said. “I went to a lot of trouble to get that. What’s this kid’s problem?”
“I bet I can guess,” Zuko said, not sounding happy. Off of a set of puzzled looks, he continued, “Aang and I just came in out of nowhere and snatched the only family he had from him, and gave them to other people – my mother to me, and Lu Ten to Uncle. Who’s left for him?”
“So he was thinking we’d dump him on the street?” Toph said, incredulous.
“No, I told him we wouldn’t do that, of course,” Zuko said. “I think he’s just scared – and maybe more than a little angry – and thinks he’s been forgotten by the people he loves.”
“And having to deal with such a large crowd after so much isolation must be difficult as well,” Iroh added. “In any case, the city is not a very safe place these days, so perhaps we should simply find the boy and ask him what is wrong, rather than stand here and wonder.”
“Well, he certainly didn’t leave by the main door,” Mai pointed out. “We were all in front of it.”
“The servant’s door?” Aang didn’t have any servants – he had repeatedly refused to have any assigned to him – but his suite still had a door onto adjoining quarters for servitors. When checked, though, it was shut tight. And upon opening it, they found a layer of undisturbed dust on the floor.
“He didn’t come this way either,” Sokka said. “So what’s left?”
“No idea,” Lu Ten said, looking worried. “But I have an idea. Let’s see if HanPan can pick up something.”
“Wait, now who’s HanPan?” Ty Lee said. “I’m confused!”
Lu Ten picked up a small woven box from the floor. “Not to worry. This is HanPan. He’s Mikka’s pet.”
Ty Lee looked under the lid, and squeaked in delight. “Ooh, he’s soooo cute! I want one! Look at that little nose!”
“He’s a wind mouse,” Aang said. “We used to have them all over the place in the Air Nomad temples. They drove the cooks crazy trying to keep them out of the grain stores without killing them. HanPan’s the first one I’ve seen since I came out of the ice.”
“I wonder why he left HanPan here?” Ursa said. “I wouldn’t have thought Mikka would do that. Although he had to know we’d take good care of his pet for him, of course. What else did he take besides his old shirt?”
A quick inventory showed that Mikka had taken his old bag from the island, some soap, a fair amount of food from the cart, and one of Aang’s blankets.
And one other thing.
“The crown is gone,” Ursa said thoughtfully. “I had set it right here next to the incense burner. It’s not there.”
There was another frantic search to see if Roku’s crown had been kicked over and rolled under something, but it was nowhere to be found.
“Why would he take that?” Zuko said, trying to remind himself not to get angry at Mikka. The boy couldn’t know how precious the ornament was to Zuko. Which didn’t mean that the loss of it didn’t sting quite a bit.
“Maybe he grabbed it to sell?” Katara said. “If it’s a crown, it must be made of precious metals, right?”
“Yeah, but not just that,” Aang told her. “It wasn’t just a piece of jewelry – it was the Crown Prince headpiece that Sozin gave Roku, when Roku left to train. Back when they were friends.”
Everyone but Zuko, Ursa, Lu Ten, and Iroh stared at Aang.
“It’s what now?” Toph finally said. “Where did that come from?”
“Er….” Aang said, shooting a look at Zuko that asked if he wanted to go into the details about all that right now. Zuko clearly did not. “We’ll tell you about it later. For now, I think we should find Mikka before he gets into trouble, or we lose track of him completely.”
There were loud grumblings from his group about secrets being kept, but no one pushed the issue. Lu Ten picked up HanPan from his cage, made everyone clear a space, and put the little creature down in the center. “Find Mikka,” he said.
“Does he really understand when you talk to him?” Toph asked.
“I’m not actually sure. Mikka has him trained to do a large number of tricks, though, so I know he’s pretty smart for a mouse. It’s worth a try, at least.”
At first Han Pan seemed interested only in the circle of people staring down at him, and then in the food cart. But at Lu Ten’s repeated urgings of “Find Mikka!”, the wind mouse finally scuttled into Appa’s stable and stood there, squeaking. Appa looked down at the tiny invader and made a soft, curious “Hrmf?” sound.
Aang looked up. “Do you suppose he went out the skylight?”
Zuko frowned. “I hope not. The roofs are no place to run around in the dark unless you know exactly what you’re doing. He could easily fall and break his neck.”
“That’s what I keep telling you,” Mai sighed. Zuko flushed slightly, but made no reply.
“HanPan seems to think that’s where he went,” Lu Ten said. “And if that’s what happened, then we really do need to catch him fast before he gets hurt.”
“Let me go after him,” Aang said. “The roofs don’t bother me.”
“I want to come too!” Ty Lee said. “I’m good with kids!” She did a handstand, as if that proved something.
Zuko said nothing, but vaulted into Appa’s saddle and from there up to the eaves, and out into the night. Aang and Ty Lee followed close on his heels.
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Mikka huddled near a crumbling chimney, trying to get his bearings. He was having second thoughts about his hasty flight, and even more about his choice of route. He had been sure that going to the roofs would buy him a lot of extra time as people searched through the palace for him, but he hadn’t reckoned on how steep and slick many of the terra cotta roof tiles would be, nor how high some of the buildings in the capital were. And there was the fact that every now and then there were places where the houses had recently burned, forcing him to either backtrack, or to cross over blackened, rickety beams to make progress. He thought himself a good climber, having done his share of practice on the rocky walls of the island, but the city was presenting very different challenges.
More than once Mikka had thought about returning, but two things kept him going. One was the memory of the way he had been so completely forgotten, utterly left out, when Ursa and Lu Ten’s real family had appeared. The second thing was the heavy golden weight in the bag hung over his shoulder.
Mikka couldn’t even say for sure why he had grabbed the crown. He had been trying to figure out how to pick up HanPan without the wind mouse’s squeaks giving him away, and his eye had fallen on the ornament, standing next to the incense burner, glowing softly with the light from the embers in the dish. Without thinking, his hand had gone out and wrapped around it. It was warm and heavy in his palm, and he pushed it deep into the bottom of his sack to keep it safe. And then he had left, realizing only later that he had left HanPan behind.
He reached a hand into the sack to touch it. It was still there, still slightly warm from the heat of the incense burner. And it was still very much not his, and he was still a thief.
Mikka wondered what the punishment for theft of an item like this was in the Fire Nation capital. Would he be whipped, flayed even? Lose a hand? Lose his head? There were so many awful possibilities. He just couldn’t chance it. He would have to go on. Somewhere beyond the capital he would find a small village that would give him shelter in exchange for his healing skills, he was sure.
He stood up, swinging the sack over his shoulder once again. Time to get moving.
A hand fell on his shoulder. “Not a good idea,” someone said. Mikka gasped and whirled, and came face to face with the young Fire Lord. His expression was hard to read – part relieved, part exasperated, and more than a little angry.
Mikka squeaked like HanPan, and scrambled backward, trying to pull away from Zuko’s grip. Zuko’s expression became alarmed, and he let go of the boy’s shoulder to grab his wrist instead. “Don’t do that, you little idiot! You fall from here and you’re not standing back up again, ever.”
Mikka barely heard him. All he could think of was that Zuko had come to avenge the theft of his crown personally. And he had seen the Fire Lord fight Lu Ten – he was clearly not a person to be trifled with. But his hand had a grip like iron around Mikka’s wrist, and Mikka couldn’t pull free.
Acting without thought, without any real intention but to get away, he pulled water from the air and from his own reserves, enough to leave a shimmering film on his free hand. He curved it around, fingers stiff and straight, and slapped it down on top of Zuko’s white-knuckled hand that held his wrist captive.
Mikka was completely unprepared for Zuko’s cry of sudden agony, or the way his entire arm went limp and boneless.
Or the way he lost his balance, slipped, and vanished over the edge of the roof.
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Some indefinite time later, Mikka finally stopped running. By rights, he should have fallen to his death a dozen times in his panicked flight over the rooftops in the dark, but luck or the intervention of benevolent spirits had kept him in one piece. Now, however, he had gotten away from the city center, and the tall graceful buildings were giving way to squat, lower houses, often surrounded by small scrubby yards. The roof route had gotten him this far, but it would take him no further.
He found a vine-choked waterspout and used it as a ladder to reach street level, panting hard. Once safely down, he collapsed into a heap next to the wall and began to sob wildly, overcome with terror and loss. It was impossible to go back now. He would surely be killed for his crimes. He had lost Ursa and Lu Ten forever due to his recklessness and stupidity. He didn’t know what they would think of him now. Worse, he didn’t know what he thought of himself.
What had he done, back there in that moment of panic on the rooftop? He had just wanted to make Zuko let go. He hadn’t mean to hurt, let alone kill, anyone. He stared at his own hands, wondering whether he could ever trust himself to use them to heal anyone ever again.
“Do you need help, young man?”
Mikka looked up. A man was standing there, dressed in red robes and a cap. As Mikka started to scramble away, the man held up both hands and stepped backward. “Please wait, my friend. I mean you no harm. You look as if someone has been chasing you. Did you get in trouble with street ruffians? I’m sorry to say there are more of them around these days than there used to be.”
Mikka gulped hard. The man wouldn’t want to help him if he knew what Mikka had done – of that, Mikka was sure. But he didn’t know. And Mikka was suddenly, desperately lonely for the sound of a friendly voice.
“No, I…I mean, no, I just…” His voice trailed off. He had no idea what to tell this man.
The red-robed man didn’t seem to require an explanation. He held out a hand and helped Mikka stand up on shaky legs. “My name is Shyu. You don’t have to tell me yours if you don’t want to. I’m just heading out to begin the night shift at work. It’s very quiet there, most nights. Would you like to come with me and have a cup of tea?”
“I…uh…” Mikka wasn’t sure going with this man, kind though he seemed, was a good idea. On the other hand, he was desperately tired and beginning to feel the hurt of dozens of small cuts, scrapes, and bruises gained in his frantic trip away from the Palace. It couldn’t hurt to sit and rest in a safe place and have a cup of tea, could it? And maybe the man would be able to show him the way out of the city, so he could try to find a place safe from the wrath of the Fire Nation. “Yes. I mean – please. I’d like that.”
The man – Shyu – nodded calmly and pointed to an unassuming low building. “It’s in there. Walk slowly, now – I see you’re still unsteady.”
When they reached the building, Shyu unlocked the door with a large iron key. The lock was large and impressive, the first such Mikka had seen since arriving in the city. He hesitated at the threshold, wondering if the man meant to lock him in and then run for the guards. Shyu saw his glance at the lock, and said, “I’m supposed to lock it behind me, but it can stay open for a little while tonight, I think.”
With that reassurance, Mikka followed the man inside. The place was modestly furnished, but no one else appeared to be around. Shyu led him to a small kitchen in the back and set a pot of water on to boil. He offered Mikka a seat, which the boy took, and a plate of rice cakes, which Mikka refused. His stomach was still too unsettled to deal with food yet. Just to be polite, he reached into his sack to get a steam bun to nibble on. His questing hand brushed the crown, and Mikka jerked back with a cry.
The crown was hot to the touch, almost hot enough to burn.
Shyu looked around, alarmed. “It’s nothing,” Mikka hurried to assure him. Shyu looked distinctly skeptical about that, and Mikka rushed to add, “I stuck myself on something when I reached into my sack. I’m not hurt. It just surprised me.”
Shyu didn’t look convinced, and seemed about to say something when, perhaps in answer to Mikka’s cry, a low, haunting moan sounded from somewhere nearby. Mikka jumped and looked around wildly, hunting for the source of the sound. Shyu merely looked resigned, and continued preparing the cups of tea. “Please don’t be frightened,” he said, as Mikka eyed him with deep suspicion. “She can’t harm you.”
“Is – is it a ghost?”
Shyu looked startled. “A what? Oh, no. Very much human. Very ill, and very sad, but human. Although if one were feeling poetic, one might say she is a ghost of her former self, and that would not be wrong.” Shyu measured out tea leaves into the cups.
“What’s wrong with her?” Mikka had every reason to avoid getting involved with these people, and yet his healer’s curiosity wouldn’t be silenced.
“It is hard to say, exactly.” Shyu tested the tea water and found it not yet hot enough. “We do not think it is physical, but rather a disorder of the mind, and, more importantly, the spirit. We are seeking ways to help her, but she is a very recent patient, and the process has just begun. My job is to help investigate the spiritual aspects of her illness, since I am the First Sage.” At Mikka’s blank look, Shyu added, “Leader of the Fire Sages.” Mikka looked no more enlightened, and Shyu frowned. “Don’t you know of the Fire Sages? I assumed you were Fire Nation from your appearance – “
“Oh, yes, I’m Fire Nation,” Mikka said, much too quickly. “I’m just – just from an island a long way away. I’ve heard of the Fire Sages, of course. You’re just, um, not what I expected.” That much at least was true; Ursa had told him of the Fire Sages, their noble purpose, and the corruption of that purpose under Fire Lord Azulon. She had described the elegant, stately Fire Temples with the flames that never went out. She had never said anything about a small house with a very large lock on the door, however.
Shyu looked mildly embarrassed. “Ah, I see. Well, I’ve only been First Sage for a little over ten days now – perhaps I’ll become more impressive once I’ve had the job for a while. I rather doubt it, though. It does not seem to be my lot in life.” He gave Mikka a reassuring smile. “I find you a very interesting person, young man, but I’ll stop prying into your secrets. The tea is ready, if you would like some now.”
Mikka accepted the hot tea gratefully, though a trifle warily. The moaning had been very unsettling, but Shyu himself radiated calm and warmth like the gentle sun on a summer morning. It was hard to suspect him of secretly evil deeds. And the tea was very good.
A second moan sounded, and Mikka frowned as something nagged at him. He took another sip of tea and thought about it carefully, trying to track down the fleeting idea.
Oh yes, there it was.
He had heard that moan, or something very much like it, before. Many times. Coming from his beloved Lady Ursa, as she struggled, somehow caught in the web of her daughter’s madness.
“What?” Shyu said, astonished. “Well, she’s been disinherited for treason, of course, but yes, it is the former Princess Azula. We would appreciate it if you kept that information to yourself, though – there are many people out there who would like to use her in ways that would be very bad for her health. If you let it slip that you know where she is, there are parties out there who wouldn’t hesitate to torture you to get that information.”
“I won’t tell,” Mikka assured him. “But – can I see her?”
Shyu’s voice was doubtful. “I am not certain that would be wise. And why would you wish to?”
Mikka touched his sack. Again, he felt the heat of Roku’s crown under his fingers. “I think I have something that belongs to her.”
To Be Continued
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sugeatarc) wrote,
