CHAPTER FOUR

A STRANGE OCCURENCE

Terra grew stronger every day. She and Locke could ride and walk their Chocobo longer, taking fewer rests, and making camp later every night. After the first day, Locke avoided the main road and villages, for it was not speed but stealth that they would need to reach Figaro. "After all," Terra thought, "we're as likely to have enemies ahead as behind."

By the second day, the snowfall stopped and the wind abated, which pleased Terra very much. "But now there's no snow to cover our tracks," said Locke. "Trackers can pick up our trail."

When Locke and Terra were only five days' ride from Figaro, the snowy peaks and the broad, white valleys yielded to smaller mountains, jagged and red, and green meadows and forests. The forests were dark and, according to Locke, filled with strange and dangerous beasts. Nevertheless, they had to make camp there in order to stay out of the open. "Besides," said Locke, "we won't have anything to worry about unless we stray too far in. Nothing dangerous lives on the edge of the forest."

And so, after having set up an early camp (for they had traveled a long way and their Chocobo were tired) in a small clearing in the forest, Locke went off hunting and Terra set out to find a suitable place for a bath.

"Take these with you," said Locke, handing her a bow and quiver. "The one with the green feather is a signal arrow. If you get into trouble, shoot it straight up in the air and I'll be there before it hits the ground." And with that, Locke gave her a hearty wink, slung his own quiver over his shoulder, and disappeared into the trees. Terra examined the green-feathered arrow. The arrowhead was a hollow, wooden chamber dotted with air holes.

Terra took her sword and walked cautiously into the forest, treading lightly and making little noise. She had a keen sense of direction and memorized the landmarks on her path.

It was remarkably still, as if the whole wood had stopped what it was doing to gape silently at the human who had interrupted its tranquility. Terra had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. But at last she found the object of her search: a quiet pond, clear as glass, in a sunny enclosure. She had a sense about the serendipitous pool. Perhaps it had some enchantment on it or was the home of some fantastic creature. But after throwing a rock into the pond, and seeing nothing happen, Terra chalked it up to her imagination, undressed, and slipped into the water.

She shivered at first, but acclimated to the temperature by doing a couple laps over the length of the pond. Terra was just beginning to enjoy the journey and to forget that there was a larger world, an Empire on their heels, when she heard a sound that made her heart catch in her throat. While she was still out a ways from the bank, Terra heard a stick snap somewhere in the wood nearby.

"Locke!" she said, and in a sudden fury resolved to beat him within an inch of his life with the flat of her sword for spying on her. But then, to her terror, another man stepped out onto the bank—a big man with a greedy, piggish face and brown, imperialistic clothing. A tracker!

Terra screamed as she met his eyes, and a disgusting grin formed on his face. He was standing over her clothes and her weapons. She glanced at her bow at his feet. The ugly man started to unbuckle his belt and Terra screamed and fixed him with a stare that might have bored a hole through his brain with her wrath, her heart racing in mortal terror and her face growing hot. And as she stared at the man, breathing hard, she noticed something that must have already begun a moment before.

The avid look on his face had been replaced by one of pale horror. His eyes crossed to look at his nose, which was elongating from his face to form a snout and pushing his eyes—which were now black as beads—to the sides of his head. His ears grew to points at the top of his head, even as tusks grew out of his lower jaw and curved up. The tracker's clothes melted into his body, which was sprouting brown fur all over.

This takes a long time to tell, but all these changes happened simultaneously in a moment. The man's panicked yell turned into a high, horrible squeal, and he fell down on all fours. The wild boar trampled away through the undergrowth squealing in mad frenzy.

As frightened as she was, the first thing Terra did was swim to shore, dress, and arm herself. With trembling fingers, she docked the signal arrow, aimed skyward, and drew the bow. But, for whatever reason, she did not let the arrow fly. Terra unbent her bow, slumped down against a tree, and wept.

She cried because she had been naked and afraid. She cried because she was nowhere safe, because the Empire was crushing her with its presence, because she hadn't cried for Arvis, and because now she was alone and free at last to weep. She cried for many reasons, and in so doing felt a great burden lifted from her, as if the fear and strain had been floodwaters building up against a dam of her heart. It was a happy fiction to believe that she could cry away her troubles—or perhaps it would allow her to face them with courage.

Finally Terra wiped her eyes and recomposed herself, checking her reflection in the glassy water to see if it looked like she'd been crying. Then, satisfied, she left the pond with a mixture of fear and gratitude, supposing that the place had been enchanted after all. She picked herself up and made her way back to camp, where she found Locke already roasting dinner.

"Took you long enough, kiddo. I was thinking about sending out a search party. (Of course, it would have been a party of one.) Did you get lost?"

Terra shook her head. Locke eyed her suspiciously while handing her a spit of cooked, salted meat.

"You get into trouble?" he asked.

Terra considered for a moment, but again shook her head. Locke continued to shoot interrogating glances at her, clearly trying to discern the reason for her sudden silence. And either from a desire to draw her out by conversation, or else to fill up the heavy silence which had fallen between them, Locke told her about his hunt.

"So, I was hiding in a bush, about to shoot this buck, when a boar came rampaging out of the woods—something must have scared the hell out of him—and I put two arrows into him before he even noticed. But the strangest thing was—Hey! Don't spit that out; that's good pork!"

"Locke," Terra said. "I saw a tracker."

"A tracker!" said Locke, who was instantly on his feet with his knives out and scanning the trees. "Did he see you?"

Terra hesitated. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I think we'd better go. I'm strong enough to travel by night."

"You're right," said Locke. "I'll get the gear; you put out the fire and bring the hog."

"No; there's no time to take it with us. I'll put out the fire and help you pack. Not another bite, Locke."

If Locke was surprised by Terra's insistence on leaving the boar, he didn't show it. In record time, Locke packed up their things, loaded the Chocobo, and then he and Terra mounted the birds. All the while Locke kept a sharp eye on the surrounding woods. Terra had helped Locke pack with great efficiency, not bothering to stay alert, and giving a shudder of revulsion every time her eye chanced to fall upon the skewered boar, with its bulging eyes and hideous expression.

And so Locke and Terra walked their Chocobo by moonlight through endless fields and valleys, with mountains on either side growing smaller but more numerous. Here and there, especially on the sides of steep hills, were patches of sand which shone blue in the moonlight.

Over the next five days Locke led them almost without stopping south across the increasing wastes of sand. Terra was strong enough now that their Chocobo tired before she did, and she could keep pace with Locke almost without difficulty. Her military mettle had returned (she supposed), and that made her proud.

They slept less and less and always during the day. Locke insisted that they also sleep in shifts, so that the other could keep a lookout. But they encountered no trouble for the rest of their journey to Figaro. No trouble, that is, from man. Nature beset them with new difficulties.

If she had not guessed it before, Terra knew now that they were headed straight into a desert. It was not sand but grass that was scarce and patchy now. The sand was vast, and wavy, and underwater-looking mirages danced on the horizon. Water became harder to find, and there were long spaces when Terra grew lightheaded, almost delirious from the heat. The desert was freezing at night and sweltering during the day. Terra patted her Chocobo's beak and spoke soothing words to it when it squawked pitifully, for the cruel, hot sand burned its feet. The Chocobos' tongues lolled out of their mouths, and only when they began to stumble would Locke admit that it was time for a break.

Another problem, which made Locke and Terra considerably nervous, was that they had to travel from one oasis to another, and camp there; and anyone travelling through the desert would be sure follow the same route. For all they knew, there might be a unit of imperial soldiers waiting to ambush them at the next watering hole. But, as I have said, they met with no more trouble of that kind, and for this they were grateful.

Finally Terra saw the end of their journey in sight. Figaro Castle rose up out of the sand in the distance.