I awake to absence. The Gaang had looked for a trail last night, but they couldn’t find anything in the dark. Teorin and Zuko had just disappeared. No Teorin. No sister. Just burns and a bedroll. No…

  “Where’s Cat?” I say in panic, shooting up and surveying the camp.

  Sokka squints toward the treeline. “I don’t see him anywhere. Honestly? I don’t remember seeing him since last night.”

  My chest tightens. “He never wanders off at night.”

  Toph tilts her head. “Small paws… yeah. He followed you two down to the river last night.”

  Aang swallows hard. “Then maybe Cat’s with Teorin?”

  Katara’s lips press thin.

  The camp goes quiet. My throat feels like ash. What if that fire prince hurts him? What if—

  I cut myself off. Imagining nightmare scenarios isn’t helpful. Maybe he’ll come back. Or maybe he really is with Teorin, and maybe… maybe that means neither of them are alone.

  Aang looks at me. “Sorry, Lev. I can fly around, maybe I can—”

  I shake my head. “If Toph can’t sense him around, I doubt you’d have much luck. Maybe… maybe you can do a quick loop, but…” I wrap my arms around myself and let out a slow breath. “We can look for him while we look for Teorin.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  I pause, blinking. Then stare up at them. “We will look right?”

  Aang gives me a firm nod. I glance at the others. Toph just shrugs. Katara looks more concerned than anything.

  Sokka sighs. “So, where should we start?”

  We make camp in a hollow between ridges, the air still heavy with the scent of dust and pine. We’d searched the whole day, split up, looked from above on Appa. No sign of Zuko. No sign of Teorin. No sign of Cat. Just a long day wasted.

  The heaviness that settles on the camp is brutal. Aang especially has gotten quieter and quieter as the day wore on. I refuse to let the silence win. So I juggle rocks, badly, on purpose. One falls and nearly brains me. I make a show of ducking. “Behold! The amazing Lev, master of gravity’s betrayal.”

  Toph snorts, half-smiling. “You’re worse than Sokka with his jokes.”

  “Correction,” I say, lobbing another rock into the air. “I’m better, because mine come with juggling. Double the entertainment value.”

  Sokka groans. “I want a refund.”

  I fling one rock his way. He snatches it out of the air, scowling, but Aang laughs. Good enough.

  Inside though, my arm burns with every flick. The skin pulls tight under the bandages, heat radiating like the memory won’t let go. I shove it down, keep juggling, keep smiling.

  Katara’s voice cuts through the laughter. “You shouldn’t be moving that arm.”

  I freeze just long enough to drop all three rocks on my foot. Hop, hiss, grin. “Relax, doc. If I can juggle, I can heal. Pretty sure that’s how it works.”

  Her frown deepens. She sets her water jug down firmly. “You’re overdoing it. You need rest.”

  “Rest is boring,” I counter lightly. “Besides, if I don’t keep spirits up, you’ll all mope yourselves to death.”

  Katara opens her mouth to argue, but I flash a wide, too-bright grin and start another juggling round. The conversation dies, but her eyes linger on me, sharp and searching.

  I pretend not to notice.