FINAL FANTASY: POINT OF INTERSECTION
Book 1: The Approaching Storm

21

Pressing her ear against the door, Sara tried to listen as best she could to the conversation going on inside her father's office. She didn't worry about the guards, because her father hated having them around and so they were never in this area of the palace. The closest ones were at the end of the hall, and they had been easy enough to sneak past. Things had gotten very odd around here over the past several months, and Sara intended to find out why.

She had a hunch that he was behind it somehow. That bald man with the cold eyes and the reptilian stare.

Nothing had been the same here since her father had appointed the shadowy and mysterious Ghalein as his personal advisor almost six months ago, seemingly from out of nowhere. Josef Deling had always been ambitious, but until this cloaked stranger had arrived, he had tempered it with the decency and integrity his elder brother had never possessed. Sara hadn't mourned her uncle's demise, but she cared enough about her father that she was determined to get to the bottom of his recent odd behavior.

At the top of her class at Galbadia Garden, Sara had always excelled in her studies and training. That came as little surprise to her, since she had inherited her father's unflinchingly driven nature. More than anything, she wanted him to be proud of her, to smile again like he had before her mother had died so mysteriously less than half a year ago. Sara herself was still trying to recover from the shock of it all, from coming home on leave to find her mother dead of a heart attack.

The timing, of course, was all too convenient. Ghalein had first arrived no more than a month later.

Sara, who with her green eyes and thick braid of golden hair could have been a younger version of her mother, had gone back to Garden and buried herself in her classes. No matter how hard she tried, though, she couldn't escape from the pain. It was still there, a cold pit in her stomach, but the really terrible thing was that she was starting to get used to it.

Shaking off her thoughts, Sara tried to make out what her father and Ghalein were saying. Something about a prisoner, she thought. It didn't surprise her all that much, and in any case she wouldn't have put it past Ghalein to hold someone captive for whatever dark reasons he had. He seemed capable of anything, be it kidnapping, coercion… even murder.

"I trust the captive will be ready when the time comes?" That was her father's voice, as brisk and polished as the black leather boots he always wore.

A soft whisper slithered through the air as Ghalein replied. "Her fate is sealed, as you well know. She will be ready. I have seen to it."

"No doubt you have. I expect it will be quite the show when we bring her out tomorrow night."

"Oh it will," Even from behind the door, Sara could hear the subtle shift in Ghalein's icy voice. "You can be certain of that."

The cloaked advisor had never spoken to Sara, nor did he seem to talk much to anyone except her father. What were his reasons for being here? Sara wasn't sure she wanted to find out, but she knew there had to be more than he was letting on. Most of the time he kept to himself, but anyone who had spent time in the presidential palace over the last few months knew of his chill presence well enough.

Although she would have rather stayed at Garden and away from this mess, Sara hadn't been able to ignore what was happening to her father, and so when he had called and asked her to come home for a few days—he had mentioned something about wanting her to witness an upcoming ceremony or something—she had packed a few things and taken the next train to Deling City.

Sara had heard about the infamous Dollet massacre, at least as her father told it. From what he had said, SeeD forces from Balamb Garden had wiped out the population and destroyed the communications tower, apparently trying to cow Galbadia into submission. He had told her that they had been led by a sorceress, one Rinoa Heartilly, whom he considered a traitor to her own country.

Pursing her lips in thought, Sara struggled to recall where she had heard the name before, why it seemed so familiar. She knew that the sorceress—who was Sara's own age, now that she thought about it—had been deeply involved in the war two years ago and had since wed the SeeD commander, a young man named Leonhart or something. But that wasn't what nagged at her. For endless moments it hung right on the tip of her tongue, until finally it came to her.

Rinoa Heartilly was General William H. Caraway's estranged daughter.

Was this girl, whose father was the leader of the Galbadian military, the prisoner that Ghalein and her father were talking about? Sara couldn't see who else it could be, but why? Obviously the young sorceress had been taken captive during the Dollet incident, but for what purpose? As much as what she had been told repulsed her, Sara couldn't bring herself to believe that her father's version of the Dollet massacre was true. She had been in Garden long enough by now to know they didn't work that way, especially the one in Balamb, and would never exterminate an entire town.

Sara inched the door open ever so slightly, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on in there. Through the narrow crack, she could see her father, dressed as always in his Galbadian military uniform, complete with braided yellow epaulets on his shoulders and a handful of medals hanging above his left breast pocket. He had spent much of his life in the armed forces, unlike his brother Vinzer, and had risen to the rank of general, equal to the legendary Caraway.

The robed, shadowy form of Ghalein loomed over the Galbadian president despite being only slightly taller than the other man. Sara supposed it was the aura of sheer power and cunning that the mysterious advisor always seemed to carry with him. He had some kind of hold over her father, she had already concluded, but it wouldn't be easy to break, nor could she do it alone.

"You'll be there, won't you, Ghalein?" her father asked. "I'm sure you want to see the sorceress die almost as much as I do."

The bald advisor shook his head. "It is your show, not mine. You know I prefer not to be seen."

"A pity. You would have enjoyed it, I'm sure."

Ghalein's reply chilled Sara's blood. "I will. Tomorrow night will be very, very satisfying indeed."

"I had no idea you were so bloodthirsty, my friend," Josef's voice sounded almost amused.

"Pain is but another tool for shaping events to one's satisfaction. We both know how Garden will react to what will occur. You have wanted this for a long time, the chance to finish what your brother started, to complete what he left untended."

Josef frowned. "Have I? I can't seem to figure that out anymore, to be honest."

"You have," Ghalein leaned toward the other man, his voice growing so low that Sara could barely hear what he was saying. "Do not question what I have told you, Josef Deling. You know only what I allow you to know. There is nothing more than that."

Sara had always thought of her father as imposing, with his six-foot height and typically rigid demeanor, but she saw something then that truly disturbed her. Josef seemed to wilt from behind his burnished oak desk, looking like a frightened child in comparison to the ominous, robed figure that stood before him. When Sara heard her father speak again, his voice had a distant quality to it, as though he wasn't really there anymore but instead someplace far away.

"I… I understand. You're right, Ghalein, I don't know… what came over me. I must be tired…"

"Then rest," the bald advisor commanded. "You will need it for tomorrow night. I will go check on the sorceress, to be certain she is ready."

Josef nodded. "You do that, and I… I believe I'll retire for the night. It's going to be an eventful day tomorrow, after all."

"Indeed it will be. I expect SeeD will attempt a rescue. They will not allow the girl to be killed, especially her lover. You know as well as I that the Lionheart is not to be underestimated."

"Of course," Josef agreed, composing himself, "but we've prepared for that. The memorial plaza will be filled with troops, as you know, and snipers will be stationed inside the arch. If anyone tries to get near the platform, they'll never make it. And if they do, there's another surprise waiting for them."

Sara blinked. This all seemed suddenly unreal, seeing her father become someone more like her uncle than the man who had raised her with discipline but also with a stern, quiet sort of love. Despite his years in the military, her father had never been the sort of man to strike first and talk later, preferring instead to save force as a last resort. But now he was about to execute a young woman just for being what she was and for having the bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And that bastard Ghalein was encouraging him, keeping him on that track.

"Of course," he whispered. "I helped devise it, did I not?"

Josef smiled, and a shiver ran up Sara's spine. That smile was too much like the ones her uncle used to flash. Like a shark, maybe, or a snake. "I almost hope the SeeDs do make it to the platform, my friend. It would be fun to spring our little trap on them."

"Indeed. It would save you the trouble of killing the sorceress yourself, were that to happen."

"There is that, isn't there?" Josef mused, rubbing his chin. "But I'd prefer to burn the witch myself, you know. One of her kind killed my brother, so it's only fitting that I return the favor."

Ghalein nodded. "As you wish. Go and rest, and I will see to the prisoner."

Having heard enough, Sara backed away, ducking into a nearby alcove just as the office door swung open. Her heart thudding against her ribs like a bass drum, she watched as the shadowy form of her father's advisor swept out of the doorway. For a moment, Sara was sure he was going to find her, and indeed his cold, oddly pink eyes swept across the seemingly deserted hallway as though searching for something. But he moved on without pausing, and Sara finally remembered to breathe.

Seized by a sudden and undeniable impulse that she could neither explain nor refuse, Sara crept after Ghalein, following him through the palace. She kept at a safe distance, staying behind pillars or corners when possible, lest he turn and discover her. Driven as much by curiosity as by need, she followed him like a shadow into the lower levels of the building.

She encountered few guards, and those she did see, she avoided without incident. It wasn't all that hard, really. Sara had been doing it since she was a child. Hiding from the soldiers and staff in her father's estate had always been a favorite game of hers while growing up, and doing it here proved little challenge for her. The common ranks of Galbadian troops were notorious worldwide for their hapless ineptitude, and even the elite palace guards were usually little better.

Sara hid out of sight around a corner as Ghalein slipped into the palace library on the first floor. What could he want in there? Sara approached the door and peered inside to see her quarry disappearing around a nearby bookshelf. Not wanting to lose sight of him, she tiptoed into the room and glanced around, trying to keep up with Ghalein's elusive form.

Following him to the very back corner of the library, Sara hid behind one of the tall oak bookcases and watched as the robed advisor approached a bookshelf fixed to the far wall. Glancing around to make sure he was alone, Ghalein reached into the middle row and started to pull out one of the thick, leatherbound volumes. Something clicked, as though a spring had gone off, and the book halted about halfway out.

The floor rumbled beneath Sara's feet as the entire bookshelf Ghalein was standing in front of slid aside to reveal a darkened tunnel hidden behind it. Sara gazed at the black opening with less surprise than she would have guessed. A secret passage here in the palace didn't seem so unusual, she decided, given the nature of the place. No doubt it led somewhere unpleasant.

She waited as Ghalein disappeared into the gloom of the passageway until the bookshelf had slid shut behind him. Even then, Sara didn't move for a few endless moments, wanting to be sure that he would be far enough down the tunnel that he wouldn't discover her when she followed behind. Not that it mattered, she supposed, since the corridor had looked utterly black, but with Ghalein, Sara was going to take no chances. He hadn't taken a lamp or anything with him, so she had to assume the darkness wouldn't hinder his sight the way it would interfere with hers.

Taking a light with her wouldn't be any better, Sara knew well enough, since it would alert Ghalein instantly to her presence. She'd just have to feel her way along the corridor and hope that there was some sort of illumination in there somewhere. Otherwise she might not only lose sight of her quarry, but also find herself unable to make her way back here.

Sara hesitated for a moment, gazing at that shelf and pondering whether to finish this odd little errand of hers or to give up while she still had the chance. She'd learned enough already from the conversation between her father and his strange advisor, but still she couldn't quite bring herself to turn away just yet. She supposed her natural curiosity was at least partly to blame, but she also knew that this was an opportunity she couldn't afford to pass up. Not if she was going to get her father back.

After a mental count to ten, Sara moved to the bookshelf and found what she was looking for, a nondescript manual bound in blue leather much like the other books here. Had she not seen Ghalein pull it out, she would likely not have even noticed it, let alone picked it up as she was preparing to do now. Letting out a slow, deep breath, Sara pulled the book as far out as it would go until she heard the telltale click of the hidden door's release mechanism.

The bookshelf slid aside with a groan of protest, and Sara plunged into the gloom.

Taking another sip of brandy, William Caraway gazed out the window near his desk and sighed. It was happening all over again, or at least that was what it felt like. Galbadia was a hornet's nest, restless and on the brink of war. The last time this had happened was with the arrival of a sorceress. Caraway thought it ironic that a sorceress was at the center of things yet again, but somehow he could find no amusement in that thought. Perhaps it was because this whole thing came much too close for his liking.

She was, after all, his daughter.

Caraway still didn't quite understand how Rinoa had become a sorceress, even though she had tried to explain it to him once. Not that they'd gotten very far before picking up their usual arguments. That was probably why she hadn't visited much over the years. He and Rinoa had been bickering on and off for the better part of two decades, and he didn't think there was much hope of it ever changing.

Maybe if Julia had still been alive, she'd have probably been able to talk some sense into her daughter, but she'd been taken from them both so suddenly. It had been raining hard the day she took that fateful drive, and the weather had probably played some part in the accident. It didn't matter, though, because Julia should never have been in that car in the first place. She wouldn't have if Caraway hadn't argued with her again that night. He didn't even remember what it had been about, only that his wife had gotten so angry with him that she had stormed out and taken the car for a drive to calm herself down.

How many times had he wished he could have taken those words back, wished he could have told her not to go out there? It was his fault she had died, and he knew it was what had driven Rinoa away from him. She must have overheard the argument and the front door slamming as Julia had left. Maybe, too, it was the fact that he hadn't wept at Julia's funeral. As a military man, he'd been trained not to break, not to crumble under pressure or pain. Even when it would have been understandable to do so.

From his vantage point at his study window, Caraway could see much of Deling City's main streets and boulevards, their lights burning red and yellow and white against the darkness of the evening sky. Past the historic Memorial Arch and the open plaza beyond it was the presidential palace, where Josef Deling had so lately begun reviving his late brother's more nefarious practices.

That man had Rinoa somewhere, Caraway was willing to bet. He'd heard about the Dollet massacre, and public reports on Galbadian audio channels stated that there had been no survivors even among the SeeD attackers. But although he led Galbadia's military forces, Caraway knew better than to believe what Josef Deling had been feeding the media these days.

Caraway would never understand why his daughter had wanted to be one of those damned SeeDs, but she had been adamant, as typically stubborn as always, only it had gotten her into a lot more trouble than she had counted on. Maybe now she'd be more willing to listen to reason, although Caraway had his doubts about that. He had known few people in his life who could be as hardheaded as Rinoa.

Even so, he would gladly have listened to one of her tirades, just to know that she was safe.

A soft knock on his study door brought Caraway out of his contemplations, and he turned from the window with a weary sigh. "Yes, who is it?"

"Sorry to disturb you sir," one of the guards apologized from the other side of the closed doors, "but there's a young woman here who insists on seeing you. She says it's important, sir."

Caraway frowned, setting his drink on the wet bar behind his desk. "Who is it? I thought I said no visitors, Marshall. I'm not in the mood."

He expected the guard to reply, but a different voice spoke up instead. A feminine one he thought he actually recognized. "General Caraway, please. I'm Sara Deling, the president's daughter, and I have to talk to you. It's about Rinoa."

"What?" Caraway froze. "What do you mean?"

"I know where she is, sir," the young woman replied. "I've seen her, down under the palace."

Caraway crossed the room, flipped the lock, and practically threw the double doors open. On the other side stood the guard on duty, and next to him was a petite, attractive young blonde in a Garden uniform. Her thick braid of hair lay draped over her right shoulder, and she looked at him with a pair of wide, green eyes that must have seen far more than they ought. Her fingers were clenched into tight fists at her sides, and her fair skin had gone the color of paper.

"You'd better come inside, Ms. Deling," Caraway said, "and tell me everything."

Sara stepped into the Galbadian general's office, not quite sure how to explain to him what she had seen little more than an hour ago. She was still trying to make sense of it herself even as she sat down in front of his broad cherry wood desk and tried to compose herself. General Caraway closed the doors again before sitting in his own chair opposite her and looking at her expectantly.

Even in such a position, Caraway still was an imposing presence with his steely gray eyes and impeccable military uniform, his numerous medals hanging above his left breast pocket and the golden epaulettes on his shoulders. Sara thought idly that, aside from the fact that Caraway was clean-shaven and bereft of the finely trimmed goatee her father always wore, the two men didn't look all that different. Her father was a little younger, but that was about it.

"You saw my daughter?" General Caraway prodded, jolting Sara from her thoughts.

She nodded. "Yes, sir. My father and Ghalein, his advisor, they… they have her locked up under the palace. The sewers run underneath the building, you see, and Ghalein's got some hidden cells down there. That's where Rinoa is."

"You're sure about this? How did you find out she was down there?"

"I was listening in on a conversation between Ghalein and my father," Sara explained, "and when Ghalein left, I followed him down to the palace library. There's a secret passage in there that leads down to the sewers. I watched which cell he went to, and when he left, I looked inside for myself."

"Is my daughter alright?" Caraway asked.

Sara hesitated before answering, not quite sure how the Galbadian general would react to what she was about to tell him. "Oh, sir! She… she's in terrible shape… bruises and cuts everywhere, a black eye… And, sir, she… her clothes, they… they'd been torn off. I think… I think she might have… might have been…"

"Raped," he finished tonelessly.

"Yes, sir," Sara confirmed. "I… I tried to talk to her through the bars in the door, but it was like she couldn't hear or see me at all. Sir, they… they plan to execute her tomorrow night, in a public ceremony at the Grand Plaza."

Caraway stood, his fists clenched tight and his eyes narrowing. "I won't lose her, too…"

"Sir?" Sara asked, also rising.

"Nothing," he brushed her inquiry aside. "Ms. Deling, listen very carefully. I'm sending you to Balamb Garden tonight as soon as possible, and you're going to tell Headmaster Kramer and Commander Leonhart everything you've told me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. But how am I going to get out of town without my father and Ghalein knowing about it? They have eyes everywhere, you know. Especially Ghalein, sir."

Caraway dismissed her objection with a sweep of his arm. "I can get you out unseen, it's simply a matter of disguising you. Balamb Garden has been stationed outside of Timber for the past two weeks, as that's about as close as they can get to Dollet without causing friction with Galbadian forces. You'll be taking the next train to Timber, then, and I'll see that Garden personnel will meet you at the station when you arrive."

As much as she had always wanted to visit the famed Balamb Garden someday, Sara had hoped it would be under better circumstances than the ones in which she currently found herself. She hadn't yet earned the rank of SeeD, and her request to transfer to Balamb Garden to train for that post had been pending for the last several months. It still had yet to be approved.

"Understood, sir," Sara nodded her acknowledgement of the general's orders. "But, if I may ask, how are you going to disguise me?"

"One of my men will give you an extra uniform, Ms. Deling, and a helmet to cover your face and hair. Troops ride the trains like anyone else, so nobody should notice you."

Sara raised an eyebrow at the thought of donning one of those smelly blue outfits, but she managed to hide her distaste and said nothing. If it would get her to Timber and Garden without being seen, then she would go through with it. She didn't have much choice if she wanted to help her father and Rinoa.

Although she been on routine training missions while studying at G-Garden, Sara had never participated in a real one before. Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck as she realized for the first time exactly what she was about to do. As a Garden student, she had trained for combat and other hazardous situations before, but the reality of it hadn't hit home until just now. Real danger had always before been something far away, more in the realm of possibility than certainty. Now, with adrenaline building in her veins and her fists clenching and unclenching, the only thing Sara knew that was certain was the danger itself.