VIII. In Which Notorious Gamblers Are To Be Trusted

ooo

"How was your trip?"

Terra glanced back from her spot at the railing. Setzer held the ship's wheel in one hand and a burnished silver flask in the other. It was hard to tell what he was getting at. Even when speaking openly, he always had a touch of wry humor in his voice that made her wonder just how serious he really was.

"Fine," she said blankly.

"Fine, but...?" He tapped his forehead. "I'm no genius engineer, but you're gonna have to do better than that. If everything's so fine and dandy, why'd you want outta there so fast?"

"I..." It wasn't something she could explain to herself, much less a friend. Why not? She turned to him, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry. I really don't know."

He was quiet for a while, drumming his fingers on the steering pedestal. "Is it something a rabbit would help?" he asked at last.

She considered it. "You know, I think it would."

Setzer smirked and reached into his oversized black jacket with its seemingly bottomless pockets. After a minute or so of shuffling around he pulled out a flop-eared bunny. Terra didn't understand how he was able to keep a live animal in a jacket, but she chalked it up to just another part of the gambler's colorful mystique.

The little lagomorph curled up in her arms and she stroked its soft, short fur. Setzer was right; a rabbit did help. "I feel...lost," she confessed, leaning against his back. "Lost, eh? Where are you going?"

"Not anywhere different, I don't think. It's just not the way it used to be."

"Then that's not so bad, is it?" She could feel his shoulderblades as he straightened up. "Life's all about what you don't see coming."
"Yes, but..." Terra sighed. "I wish I was as strong as you."

"I'm not strong, I just hold on tight. You do the same and it'll all turn out in the end. You'll see."

Hold on tight. It was neither inherently optimistic nor bleak. She had a feeling he'd lived most of his life with those words in mind. If he can do it, I can too. "All right. I'll do my best."

He chuckled. "That's my girl."

The rabbit she held squirmed in agreement.

ooo

"That was inexcusable."

Of course Edgar would say that. Of course Edgar would blame him, of course Edgar was enraged by what he perceived to be a great injustice against womankind as opposed to Sabin's just being very confused, as if it was some kind of crime to not know what to say in a situation like that. Of course. Sabin shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

"That's all?"

"Yes, it is. I'm going north to train."

"Wait!" Edgar swung around in front of him, suddenly concerned. "You're not leaving because of this, are you?"

He glowered. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Listen to me." When he used that quiet but commanding tone he sounded like Father, and it never failed to stop Sabin in his tracks. But there were no profound words of wisdom that followed, just a wistful suggestion:

"I'd like you to straighten things out. If not for your own sake, then for mine."

The unspoken implication was jarring. "Are you going to be married when I come back?"

It was an old joke between them, with Edgar's usual response being a dramatic "I dream of the day" and a mock swoon. Now he simply shook his head. "I'll do everything within my power to let you know in advance."

I'd give you everything I have if it would put an end to all this. He grabbed Edgar in a sympathetic hug. The world's a lot less funny when you're an adult. "Look, just...stay strong, okay? Call up your friends. Hang out with Setzer as much as possible and do that rope-thing or whatever you call that game where you get so sloshed you end up---"

"Sabin!" Edgar paled, watching the several maids running around in the vicinity. "I think you're forgetting the first thing about keeping secrets."

"---and invent more stuff because that I know makes you happy, and even though I can't be around all the time I'm still rooting for you, so try not to let it get you down too much when---"

"That will do!" Even as he went out of his way to appear angry, Edgar was secretly moved by his brother's compassion. How could he dread the future when he had this kind of support? "Did you or did you not say you had to go train?"

Sabin gave him another crushing hug that lifted him several inches off the floor. "Who's touchy now, huh?"

"Let go or I won't live to be a married man," he gasped. He could feel his ribs bending inward. Since when had Sabin been this strong? Was being a behemoth too easy for him?

If only there was more time. If only he could cancel the business of the world for a day and go out and really talk with him. There was so much more he wanted to say, so much advice he wanted to offer, so much that still needed to be said. Now he genuinely had to step back, and after the wedding they would see each other even less.

This was, in many ways, a last goodbye, and Sabin seemed to know it. In that moment Edgar loathed his crown more than he ever had, not for its enormous weight or hollow honors but the way it was slowly forcing him apart from the person he loved most.

Terra...

Would you take care of him for me?

I trust you.

He envisioned a flock of bright-eyed, easily confused children with green-yellow hair and it filled him with hope.

ooo

A high-pitched whine bore out over the Falcon's engines as they prepared to land in Mobliz. Setzer turned over his shoulder, trying to discern the source of the sound, but Terra knew it immediately. "It's not the ship."

"It'd better not be. But then...?"

"Listen closely." She could make out two distinct syllables. As the ship touched down and the propellers stopped, the mysterious noise became many voices shrieking "Mama! Mama!"

"There's a welcome for you," Setzer said, wincing. The rabbit tried to bury its head between its tiny paws. "How about you go in there and tell the kids the least the could do is put out some wine for their mama's friend?"

"I don't think so. Who do you think is going to help me move all this lumber?"

"Easy. Duane!" he shouted offhandedly. The young father held two children by the hand and was leading them to the airship's deck. "Duane, get over here and do something nice for the grown-ups!"

"Setzer, don't..." Terra's old friends had a strange way of picking on him. He was an honest, affable boy, if not a bit cowardly when it came to making decisions. Parenthood had matured him considerably, but he was still just so young. Terra wondered how his next child would change him.

Duane came up the gangplank, looking irritated. "What do you want from me?"

"Take it easy, kid. We got a year's worth of wood down in the cargo hold that needs to get moved out, so grab some planks and man up, all right?" It was the same casually condescending tone he used with Locke, and it got the same annoyed reaction.

He scowled, but went to start unloading anyway. Setzer brushed back his hair, obviously pleased with such a brilliant motivational strategy.

"Say, Terra, where did all of this stuff come from?"

"Um..." Why was she so hesitant to tell the truth? Setzer wouldn't judge her, would he? No, he wouldn't, because there was nothing to judge! Then again, he'd seen the way she'd said goodbye. "Sabin got it for me. I ordered a lot of supplies from Jidoor and they wouldn't ship the order. I guess he took the receipt after I threw it away."

"I see," he said, unreadable as ever, and that was all.

The three of them took several planks at a time and set them down in a small clearing on the edge of the village, but even with all of them together it took well over an hour to finish unloading. Some of the children came out to watch, all the while squealing with glee. "Mama's home! Mama's home!"

Yes, Mama's home, where she belongs. "Where's Katarin? Is she doing well?"

"She's taking another nap," Vale sniffed from his spot on the porch. He was just eight but already had a well-developed sense of skepticism. "She's sick again. I bet you after this baby she's gonna have another one, and then another one, 'cause it's all she knows how to do."

"You shut your mouth!" Duane snapped. Setzer laughed out loud.

Terra just put on her best disapproving face and said, "You shouldn't talk that way about Katarin or anyone. In this family we all respect each other."

"Nuh-uh! Yesterday she told me I was a stupid brat who deserved to be shoved down the drain."

"It's true," Duane said, stalking back into the house.

"Duane!" I can't even leave home for two weeks? She turned helplessly to Setzer. "I'm sorry, but I think I have a real crisis to attend to."

"Sure looks like it. You'll have to give me the blow-by-blow later." Again he gave her a kiss in parting; he wasn't fond of embraces. Terra thought it was a conscious effort on his part to keep himself closed off. "You should take it easy. You've got nothing to be upset about. I mean, look at all this," he said and gestured to the stacked lumber.

"Look at...? What do you mean?" But he was already back on the ship and preparing for takeoff. It was just like him to make a parting remark he knew she wouldn't understand. Setzer liked to challenge people, both directly and with more subtle means. She waved as the Falcon disappeared over the horizon.

She might have stopped to give his words more thought if not for the mob of children around her legs. No, there would be no introspection, not now. Maybe not ever, if she could help it. "Well, hello!" she said, holding them as tight as she could. "I missed you all so much..."

"Mama, are you crying?"

"And why shouldn't I?" Terra bent down to exchange the flurries of kisses that always made her melt. Oh, it was worth it to have to shout herself hoarse on occasion as long as she had times like these. "It was a long trip. I'm so glad to be back home."

"But I thought you were gonna be with your friend!" one of the smaller girls piped up. "The king! He's Mr. Sabin's brother, isn't he? You said he's your friend!"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean everything is easy." There was no sense in telling them about the dinner party or anything that had happened afterwards. All she could do was hold them and treasure what she had. No one is going to take my family away, never, never...

"Where did you get all the wood?"

"Yeah, Mama, where did that come from?"

"Did Mr. Setzer bring it to you?"

"Are we gonna have to pay money?"

"That's so much! What are we gonna do with it all?"

"Who's gonna build it?"

"Mama, Mama, let's get started now!"

Their excited chattering raised her spirits anew. "We can get started soon, I promise. But isn't it about time we put some dinner on? Let's go inside and see how Katarin is doing."

The children scattered, either off to their respective rooms or out to play in the tall corn crops. Meanwhile, Terra was amazed at how meticulously the house ahd been cleaned. Her cast-iron pots and pans, which so often served as invincible armor for little towheaded knights, hung neatly on the wall. All the harvesting equipment sat in place, ready to be taken to the fields in a minute's notice.

Katarin stood by the stove, holding her belly with both hands. "Welcome back, Terra," she said softly. "I hope you had a good time."

Terra ran to give her a careful hug."Katarin! You should be resting! Is there something I can get for you?"

"Stop it, I'm not helpless. What's this Duane tells me about all the lumber in the front yard? I thought the suppliers from Jidoor weren't going to deliver this far."

"It was a gift. Sabin..." Every time someone asked it became harder to sound nonchalant. He hadn't just bought it on a whim; he would have had to keep the receipt for months, all the while planning to... "It's kind of him, isn't it?"

"It's more than kind, it's amazing. I'll have to thank him the next time he comes around. What a nice man." She stretched and wandered off, rubbing her eyes. "I'm not feeling hungry, but if you could save some dinner I'm sure I'd eat it later."

"Yes, of course." Terra opened up the pantry. They were still recovering from last summer's drought, when the weeks without rain had ruined half the coming harvest. She'd walked all the way to Tzen to buy the staples they needed, but even then it was only barely enough. I could make pasta, it doesn't require too much, and there are still plenty of pears left in storage...Tristan won't eat pears without cinnamon and brown sugar, but I think we have some...

She felt a twinge of joy. I'm thinking like a mother again. Now she could focus all her attention on what really mattered. "Lue!" she called. "Lue, do you want to help Mama cook?"

Lue was a willowy, quiet girl whose reticence reminded Terra strongly of Celes. She stayed in her room, only venturing out when asked, and rarely spoke to anyone. Terra had a soft spot for her; she knew what it was like to feel out of place.

"Hello, Mama," she said, and stepped forward to dutifully receive her hug and kiss.

"Look at you! You must've grown an inch since I left! Would you like to do the potatoes? If you could just cut them up and mash them, I could work on fruit."

She silently reached for the heavy pestle. Oh, Lue. Terra wasn't sure if having other children on the island would make things harder or easier. Surely they would benefit from having friends, but hadn't they already grown up that way? They were just now beginning to see each other as family. Was that good or bad? Weren't friendly relationships important, too? How should they be interacting? Would Lue be happier with more girls her own age?

Being a parent means worrying nonstop. That was all right, though. This sort of worry was familiar. She could fret all night if she wanted to.

A thin pair of arms grabbed her around the waist. "Mama, I sewed up my old brown shirt all by myself! Come see!"

"Good for you, Susanna! But why don't you bring it downstairs so I can take a look? Lue and I are just starting dinner." It was lovely to feel needed, appreciated and (most of all) at ease. The smell of potatoes and rock salt relaxed her.

In between the hour and a half it took to put dinner on the table, Terra approved of the shirt, meditated two disputes, bandaged a wound, and sang a whole host of traveling songs. Even the normally staid Cyan had taught her a few from Doma, about the peach trees in summertime and a warrior's sword. Edgar's ditties with their intricate harmonies had always been the most fun to sing, but she wasn't sure how many of them were appropriate for children. She began humming the opening bars to the Zefiro torna, then singing as the melody moved her.

"What's that song, Mama?" one of the older boys asked, reaching out for the potatoes. None of the houses in Mobliz had a single table for so many people, so Terra and Duane had had to convert a bookshelf for the cause. Their "table" resulted in a lot of bumped elbows and squashed shoulders, but it was all they had.

"I learned it in Figaro. The old queen liked to sing it, I'm told."

"Figaro sounds so exotic," Duane said enviously. "I'd love to visit someday. I'd like to see all the castles and kings and far-off places you talk about. Sometimes I forget there's anything outside of here."

"How big is the world?" Phillippe wanted to know.

Terra was at a loss for an explanation. How could she convey the enormity of the whole planet to someone who had never been a mile from home? "Well...think of it like this. If you walked all the way from the western shore down to where the big forest starts, that's about the size of Castle Figaro."

"Wow!"

"That's just the castle?!"

"Does everybody in Figaro live there?"

"No, no. The kingdom of Figaro is even bigger. A lot of it is a desert that goes on for miles in every direction, so big that you can't see it all even from the highest point in the castle. People live in towns on the north and south edges. But even all that put together is just a small part of the world."

There were more amazed cries of "That's huge!" and "Whoa..." Everyone agreed it would be great to go exploring someday, and Terra toyed with the idea of asking Setzer for a paid tour. Somehow she didn't think he'd be too enthusiastic about little hands and feet making marks all over the ship, but it couldn't hurt to ask. If anything, it would be worth it to see him try to censor himself.

We should do it soon, before Doma Castle is gone forever. How much of the world she knew would be gone by the time the children grew up? It was natural for things to change, but she couldn't help but think it wasn't a good change. If people like the nobles she'd met in Figaro were in charge, how could she possibly have faith in the future?

Do you think the world is worse now? Worse than before, I mean?

I don't think you can measure it like that. Harder, maybe, but I wouldn't say that means it's worse. Remembering Sabin's optimism was encouraging. He was the most well-traveled person she knew. If he still believed things were all right, it had to be true.

It was strange how so many things he did and said were reassuring to her. What was it that gave him that peace of mind? Was it meditating? It seemed like a good, calming thing to do. Why didn't she try it?

"Mama, will you make cookies?"

"I want ice cream!"

"Jay's shoving!"

"No, you are!"

"Mamaaaa!"

"Can I stay up late tonight?"

"If he gets to stay up late, I do too!"

Terra remembered why she didn't meditate.

ooo

Before every trip to train with Master Duncan, Sabin stopped to visit the one person his master respected and feared as a superior. "In that house lies my strength," he would say, waving at a little cottage with white shutters, "my heart, my soul, and my every waking terror. Go and do penance! Recognize the face of true power!" Sabin was always willing to go, because he never disobeyed his master---and the face of true power made really good oatmeal raisin cookies.

"Sabin, dear! How are you? Why, it's been ages!"

"Hello, Lady Duncan," he said, bowing not only out of reverence but to keep from bumping into the ceiling. Everybody in South Figaro was so short. "I'm fine, thanks. How have you been?"

"Good as ever. You know, I heard from that insufferable clerk at the tailor's that His Royal Highness was in town accompanied by an attractive young lady who turned out to be the Lady Coppelia. Since when do you spend your time cavorting with beautiful heiresses?"

"Uh..." He didn't know how to field that one. "She's an old friend. We were doing some errands for Edgar."

"Of course! That's what I said, you see, but the wretch wouldn't hear of it, saying you were making a move for the throne because your brother's been so slow to marry, so naturally I had to beat him over the head with my cane." She shuffled to the tea cabinet and took out a box of lapsang souchong. She was a tiny, wrinkled woman bent low with age, but Sabin could see the attraction.

"If you're off to train with the master," she said informally, "you should know he's not up north. He went down to Thamasa recently to visit some friends."

"Thamasa!" The week he'd set aside for the journey became two and a half. Of all the rotten luck.

The old woman laughed. "He's becoming even more restless these days, if you can believe it. If he's not doing something every second he'll curse himself for wasting time...is that going to be you someday?"

Sabin shook his head. "I hadn't planned on it," he admitted. "There are still so many people just starting to rebuild their lives. I have to help all of them before I do anything on my own. Besides, it would be nice to..." Settle. Have a real home. Live on my own terms, like Edgar never will. "...just take things one day at a time."

"I can sympathize, but that's no attitude for someone about to train with my husband. If you want to find him you'd best finish your tea and catch the earliest boat out from the Colosseum. By the time you get there he may already be on the other side of the world."

Master Duncan would no doubt be amused to know he was still running circles around his oldest pupil. Sabin resolved to be at the Colosseum harbor in five days' time. From there it would probably be a week to Thamasa, if not more; motorboats were rare and there were likely to be several other trade stops along the coast. It was always such a pain to get down there, and it usually ended up with Strago hassling him to get a real job. Still, if Master Duncan is there...

As he should have expected, his luck only got worse. An enormous sandstorm stalled him for nearly eight hours, the northwestern channel had flooded, and the heat wave was overwhelming.

What did I do to deserve this? he thought. Was one lousy day not enough? I'm not running away from anything now, just back to business as usual, and I'm still suffering for it. Sabin wasn't generally inclined to think too much of bad fortune, but he was still annoyed. After all, Figaro Castle was far away. Weren't things supposed to be less complicated?

He stayed awake by reciting the endless prayers of the order (all my life is for Your service, all my works are in Your name), coming up with terrible puns on people's names, and thinking about the kind of work he'd have to do. The master had a gift for "creative" training, not that it could be harder than putting three hyperactive little boys to bed at once. That alone had made him question the existence of God.

Was she holding up all right? Nah, of course she was. She didn't need his help, or anybody else's, for that matter. He just had a soft spot for all those kids. Maybe he'd swing by in a couple weeks and bring some souvenirs from his trips.

...unless a couple weeks was too soon. He tried to be good about not coming any more than once every three months unless somebody had a birthday. Did the trip to Figaro count as a visit? Was he supposed to base it around the last time he saw the kids, or the last time he saw Terra?

Sabin was working that out two days later when he arrived at the harbor, and later still when the first ship headed out toward Thamasa. Somehow it was enough to keep him up well into the early dawn. Few things frustrated him more than not knowing what to do.

He had just laid down to a would-be sleep on a woefully undersized cot when he felt tiny footsteps on his chest. Bewildered, Sabin looked up to a whole parade of miniature Edgars running circles all over him. "What the...?" He could feel the press of their feet; it was no dream, just---

"It's about time you noticed me."

A familiar sandy-haired girl sat hunched in a corner, holding a fat sketchbook. She ripped away the top page and the dancing Edgars vanished into the air. "So where've you been? What a coincidence, huh? Say, as long as you're up, why don't you buy me a soda?"

It was going to be a very long trip.