CHAPTER THREE
FLIGHT FROM NARSHA
It was a miracle that there was any coffee to drink, for it looked like a tornado had swept through Locke's house, overturning everything but a single pot on the stove. Locke and Terra picked up a couple of chairs and mugs, and Locke grabbed the pot and filled their cups. He talked and moved very fast, like a sparrow or a hummingbird, and in general was a very lively character.
Terra looked around at the mess, suppressing the urge to straighten the pictures and put the bed back on all fours, and instead said, "I think the soldiers made quite an improvement."
Locke nearly choked on his coffee, shot her his mischievous grin, pointed at her for a moment as if to say, "Good one," and then said, "'Fraid I never have time to clean it. Always out on important business for the Returners, you see, or looking for treasure."
"You mean you're a thief?"
"Treasure hunter!" said Locke forcefully but without anger. He sipped his coffee rapidly, trying not to burn himself at the same time. He was an amicable, hearty, good-natured, whimsical soul, Terra thought, though no doubt his personality would sometimes be irritating.
"What are the Returners?" asked Terra.
"We're the revolution, baby! We're gonna take down that damn Empire, brick by brick."
"I see," said Terra, smiling.
"But we need to get you back to HQ," said Locke, as if this had suddenly occurred to him. And he stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over. "Arvis said he was going to take you to the hideout as soon as you got better. But Arvis has been arrested, which means I have to take you—protect you—and we'd better stop by Figaro. We need the king's skills. Come on, get up; what are you waiting for?"
"What...now?" said Terra.
"Yes, now! Those soldiers could come back any second!"
"But what about Arvis?"
Locke grabbed her shoulders and looked her straight in the face, and taking a sudden turn for the serious, said, "Dead, most likely. Or tortured into telling them where you've gone (which is here!) and then killed! We don't have a moment to lose!"
"What!" said Terra, excited herself now. She didn't know whether this sudden urgency was necessary or whether Locke was just being dramatic, but all the same she was now terribly afraid for Arvis. "But we've got to do something! I have to turn myself in, before they…before they—"
"Don't be stupid!" said Locke, "They'd kill him anyway, and then they'd make you join their army again or kill you on the spot!"
"But I can't bear to think that he'd be tortured because of me."
"No choice. Look, Terra, we all knew what we were getting ourselves into when we joined up. Arvis and Banon thought it important enough to save you and try to turn you, otherwise they would have killed you. They may ask me to kill you yet, and I must admit that that would make me very sad. You're kinda growin' on me, kid"—at this point he gave her an affectionate punch in the shoulder—"So get your things. Let's head out."
In no time Locke was packed: food, weapons (Locke seemed to have an infinite number of knives hidden on his person), clothes, and money. When they reached the front door, Locke stopped suddenly and turned on his heel to look at Terra.
"How did you get in, by the way?" he said, eyeing her.
"I thought you unlocked the door," she said. Locke continued to stare, as if expecting more. "Bad lock, I guess?" He shrugged, turned, and opened the door, and Terra found—when the icy blast hit her—that the wind and the snow had not abated in the least. If anything, it had grown worse.
"How are we going to get to Figaro?" Terra yelled into the roaring wind, as she hopped behind in Locke's footsteps as he plowed through the snow. Locke yelled something back that she didn't quite catch. It sounded like "Cocoa." "What?" she said. He said it again, but she didn't understand any better the second time.
Locke led her into the pine forest on what might have been a beaten path, were it not for knee-deep snow (knee-deep for Terra, that is) that had reached the forest floor. The going was hard, though the trees restrained the wind a little. But even though she walked in Locke's footsteps, Terra still found it difficult to keep up.
"Wait!" she cried, and Locke slowed his pace. After a few minutes, the trees grew thicker and denser, and the wind died down altogether.
"Chocobo," said Locke, and Terra looked up to find that they were near a little stable, inside which there were three harnessed animals which could best be described as huge, yellow, flightless birds with orange beaks and big, innocent eyes. "Chocobo," said Locke again. "I don't know if you've ever ridden one before, though, with all ships and Magitek riding-armor you must have—"
Terra didn't know what he was taking about, but she put one foot in a stirrup and swung her leg over the other side. Before Locke had finished speaking, she was sitting comfortably and rubbing her Chocobo's head as it squawked affectionately. "Apparently I have," she said, and Locke gave her a wink and mounted his own. "What about that one?" said Terra, indicating the third Chocobo.
"Cecil? I suppose we'll have to let him go," he said with a sigh. Locke cut it loose, gave it a smack on the behind, and they both sat mounted, sadly and solemnly watching it wander off into the woods. This was the only funeral they could give to Arvis.
After a moment (longer than Terra believed Locke was capable of sitting still), Locke clicked his tongue twice and steered his Chocobo's head towards the path. Terra did the same.
Once they were out of the woods, heading south with Narsha to their backs, conversation was impossible, for the howling wind returned. Terra gave the reins more slack and let her Chocobo follow Locke's, so that she didn't have to face the wind. She bent until she was almost laying on the Chocobo, which moved more gracefully than a horse—not hopping, as you might think, like a little bird. Sleep came almost before she realized that she was tired, for in spite of all the excitement since her flight from Arvis's cave (which seemed like years, not just hours, away now), she was still very weak.
And then there was the monster in ice once more, screeching—that terrifying sound!—and its eyes glowing brighter, brighter, and then the screaming of men in agony, and the stench of burning flesh, and Terra's eyes being burned out of her head—
"Terra!"
Terra screamed awake and drew her sword.
"Let go," said Locke. "Let go!" Terra looked at him, and after a moment she recognized him. She was lying in the entrance of a small cave, little more than a recess in the rock. There was a small fire burning, the Chocobo were tied to a tree outside, and Locke was kneeling beside her with both hands gripping her right arm. The sword was still in her hand. "Let go!" Terra relaxed her grip, and Locke put her sword down, and gestured to it to stay put.
"You've got one hell of a grip, girl!" said Locke. "A little jumpy, though. You almost took my head off!" He touched his head to make sure it was still attached.
"Sorry," said Terra. "Where are we?" It was nearly dusk.
"Just off the main road, about ten days north of Figaro Castle, as the Chocobo flies (figuratively speaking)," then added to the Chocobo, "No offense, guys."
Turning back to Terra, he said, "That was quite a nightmare. I think, for my sake, you'd better not sleep with your sword."
"Sorry," she apologized again. "I have the same dream every night."
"What's it about?"
"Well, there is this frozen monster, and it's screeching, and its eyes—"
"Glow?" said Locke, finishing her sentence for her. "And it has feathers and claws and isn't too fond of imperial soldiers?"
"Yeah," said Terra, and then it occurred to her. "Was that the god, the what's-it-called?"
"The Esper," said Locke. "So you do remember something after all."
"Only in the dream," said Terra, and she looked at him to see if he would fly into a fury again.
"It was me who found you," said Locke. "You were half dead, and your comrades were little more than a couple of helmets, shields, and surprisingly small piles of ash. You must be one tough cookie. Banon thinks you were on a mission to capture the Esper."
"Why?"
"How should I know?" said Locke. "I'd never be stupid enough to try to take a god, and wouldn't to know what to do with one if I did. But I wouldn't put anything past the Emperor, or Kefka."
"Who is this Banon person you keep mentioning?" asked Terra.
"The big man himself."
"The leader of your little rebellion?" said Terra, but knew before the words were out of her mouth that she'd made a mistake.
"'Little rebellion'! This is the revolution! This is—"
"Okay, okay," said Terra, slightly annoyed, "I didn't mean anything by it. So we're going to see Banon at the Returners' hideout—I mean, headquarters. Then what? What exactly are we doing? Are we just going to run from the Empire for the rest of our lives?"
Locke cocked his head in thought for a moment. "I don't know. First we have to get to Figaro, and get the king to help us. After that…"
"You've got a king in your reb—I mean, revolution?"
Locke seemed not to hear her. "After that, I suppose Banon will decide what to do with you."
"So I'm just a bargaining chip in the Returners' pocket, a hostage, a pawn, a—"
Locke whistled. "Relax; don't get your whiskers in a knot, kitten. You're not a hostage. The Revolution could use skills like yours."
"What makes you any different from the Empire? You both want to use me, and you both would rather kill me than let me be used by the other side!"
For what might have been the first time in his life, Locke seemed to be at a loss for words. Finally, serious again, Locke said, "You're right. I'll tell you what: When we get to HQ, when Banon gives you the facts—"
"Or terrorist propaganda," said Terra, though she knew in her heart that this wasn't true.
Locke continued: "After Banon gives you the facts, we'll give you a choice: join the Returners or go back to the Empire. I doubt they would give you such a choice."
Terra was outraged that she had to make such a choice, but the more she thought about it, the more she felt that the choice would come upon her eventually. The only choice she could not make was not to choose; there was no neutral ground. "How do I know that they won't kill me if I decide not to join?" said Terra accusingly.
"Because I personally will protect you. I'll escort you to the nearest imperial post if you decide to go back. I give you my word."
"Well that's reassuring!" said Terra with a sneer. "You were willing to cut my throat this morning; now you're my sworn protector? How do I know you won't be my mortal enemy by nightfall?"
Locke dismissed her allusion to his threat with his hand as if swatting a fly. "That was just to test your loyalties; I could never kill a woman," and then he looked at her, and added, "I swear on the tomb of Rachel Beatrice Finola that I would die to protect you."
Terra, finding tears in her eyes, nodded. They shook hands, each with their hand on the other's forearm, which Terra knew instinctively was a solemn covenant, which even the most hardened sinner would not break for fear of bad luck or the wrath of the gods.
Not long after dinner, Terra fell asleep thinking about who Rachel Beatrice Finola might have been, and what dark secret Locke's past might hold. She felt safe, and slept soundly, and was troubled by no dreams of gods and demons.
