CHAPTER TWELVE

ESCAPE

"It's Elle," said Terra firmly. "My name is Elle Cole." The soldiers had almost reached her now. "Listen," she said, fixing him with the most seductive look she could muster, "What do you say you and I get out of here?"

That was the last thing Pierre was expecting. "Well, I...," he stammered.

No time! "Come on," she said, grabbing his hand and getting up from the table, which was (thankfully) concealed in the shadow of a curtain. She looked around. There was a door behind the curtain! Madly she laughed and walked quickly out the door with Pierre in tow. Once out the door, she kissed his mouth to keep up the facade, and just as impetuously dashed off again, leading him by the hand. She needed to get away from the party as quickly as possible and take the most discreet alleys and back roads, and only then would she worry about how to get rid of the now hopeful Pierre.

The night air was bitter cold, and most of the streets abandoned, and Pierre wrapped his coat around her. He was a little too drunk for her brisk pace, for he said, "What's the hurry, my dear? I'll just call us a carriage."

"No! Wait...yes! Let's get a carriage," she said. If Pierre was suspicious that "Elle" insisted on waiting in the alley while he went for a carriage, he didn't show it. Perhaps he was too drunk.

Pierre staggered out into the street and hailed a carriage, and in a few moments she heard the soft tread of a Chocobo-drawn carriage and the objecting squawks of the birds. Terra hurried out of the alley and jumped into the covered carriage, which was much warmer than the open ones that went about during the day. It was easy to hide inside, because there were only small windows on either side and one looking out at the driver.

"The Main Street Inn," Terra told the driver, fending off Pierre's drunken advances. "Not till we get to my place," she said coquettishly, while pushing away his lips and his hands. He apparently thought it was just another game, and so it was a gentle struggle all the way to Main Street to keep Pierre to himself. She felt sorry that she had to play such a cruel trick on him, but neither did she want his hands all over her.

It was another stroke of good luck that Terra happened to look out the window as they were coming up upon the inn.

"Driver!" Terra cried. "Keep going!"

"What's that ma'am?" he replied. "I thought you said—"

"Just keep going!" she insisted, and he obeyed, as she sunk down below the window. The inn was swarming with imperial soldiers! "Those damn girls must have told them where I was staying!" Terra thought with infinite frustration. She had seen soldiers standing guard outside and all the lights on inside. No doubt they were searching the rooms. "I hope they don't bother that sweet, crazy old lady. What if Locke and Edgar are there! They might be arrested! Tortured! Killed! Just like poor Arvis. Damn it! Why did I ever get in the carriage with those stupid girls!"

What she didn't have time to notice was the abrupt cessation of Pierre's advances. But now when she looked at him she saw a sobering realization in his face.

"It's you," he said. "It's you they're looking for. You're the woman Terra, the Witch!"

Their faces showed equal astonishment. Terra had expected that at that realization he would subdue her or call for soldiers, but he simply stared at her with fear. Perhaps he was afraid that if he tried anything he might explode or that she might turn him into a lizard, both of which, she reflected, were entirely within the realm of possibility. But he did nothing, and the fear became something like shame. He blushed red.

"Please," he pled with her. "I didn't know it was you. If you don't mind, could we keep this whole thing between ourselves? I'd prefer it if King Edgar didn't hear about this, my dear. You see, he is rather fond of you and..."

"What?" said Terra in amazement, "You're a Returner?"

"Shhh! Not so loud," he whispered. "Not a Returner per se. Driver,"—he said in a louder voice—"take us to number seven, South Street."

"But you're an officer," said Terra, "an imperial officer."

"Yes, well, not everyone in the military joined by choice. I was taken in a draft and stationed here in South Figaro. I am from Mobliz. I was contacted by the Returners shortly after I enlisted, and have since been a kind of spy for them." He said the word spy with a lofty and proud air. "So I had been wrong about him,"thought Terra. "He was not proud of his rank, he was proud that he's a spy."

"They'll be so glad that you're all right," said Pierre. "If you don't mind my saying so, it was a bit foolish of you to leave the inn and go to a party. What if you'd been spotted? You should have thought of that," he added magnanimously. "Of course, you were spotted. Those soldiers were waiting for you."

"So Locke and Edgar weren't there?"

"No, my dear," he said, proud to be in the possession of useful knowledge. "Once they realized you'd left, they set out to look for you. But I insisted that the king stay at my house and not go out, because Kefka is looking for him too now. He knows that Edgar had been harboring you. But Locke was free to scour the city. I would have joined in the search, my dear, but it would have been suspicious of me—being an important man and an officer—to be absent from the party.

"And here we are," said Pierre, as the driver reined in the Chocobo. Pierre paid the driver, and Terra darted through the cold night air towards the door, which opened before she reached it, to reveal Edgar's surprised face.

Once inside, they both asked the same question: "What happened?"

Edgar spoke first: "Locke is still out looking for you. He should check in again in about an hour. He's watching the hotel to see if you try to go back there. There are soldiers there. Someone must have seen you."

"Yes, I know," said Terra. "I thought...Wait a minute. You didn't cut your hair."

The impertinence of this remark confused him. "Of course I didn't cut my hair, my dear. But that's beside the point. What were you doing leaving the inn, and in your state?"

"I thought I saw you across the street, only you didn't seem to recognize me. You just kept walking. I followed you—or him—but I got lost."

"What did he look like?" said Edgar with new urgency.

"He looked like you, only his hair was very short and he was a little bigger...you know...in the muscles." She didn't know how to say that delicately, for Edgar was vain and certainly did not look like he wanted for strength. The difference there was slight.

But Edgar did not seem concerned about that. He had gone white as a sheet.

When at last he found his voice again, he stammered, "So...you...followed him and you got lost. Then what happened?" She told him about the girls and the party, delicately passing over the escapade with Pierre and the exact details which led up to his discovery of her identity. For this, she could tell, Pierre was grateful, for he had long since come in and the three of them were sitting in chairs before a fire.

"This is going to make it much more difficult to leave the city, my dear, which we must do soon—tonight, in fact, before they can organize a search," said Edgar.

"I can use my influence to confuse their efforts and buy you some time," said Pierre. "They will want to speak with me next, anyway, since I was the last person to be seen with Terra. I will go to them so they don't come to my house, but I strongly caution you"—this was, to her annoyance, directed towards Terra—"against leaving the house until I get back."

Pierre donned his coat and walked out majestically, though still a little drunkenly. She could tell he was proud to be of use.

When they were alone by the fire, Terra did not press the point about the man who looked like Edgar, for she seemed to have accidentally stumbled upon some profound mystery which he was not yet ready to share with her. Instead she asked,

"Did you get all our things out before you left the inn?"

"Yes, we brought them with us."

"Good. Where are my clothes? And why did you leave me just the dress?"

The question brought Edgar out the daze which he had been in since the mention of his look-alike. Being brought back to himself again, he said, "What? Oh, yes. Well, my dear"—here the old charm was turned on again—"I thought we might have dinner together in the dining room. You see, both of us being fugitives, we were supposed to be cooped up all day together while Locke met with our contact, Pierre, and sent a message on ahead to Banon that we were on our way. And I thought we might spend a quiet evening together over a nice dinner and a bottle of wine, since we have had so little peace and quiet and so few civilized luxuries since this adventure began."

"So you were in the inn the whole time?"

"Yes, well, until the old housemaid—a little absentminded, it seems—came and told me you'd left. She seemed to think I was an imperial captain or something. I was in my room reading at the time."

Terra laughed. It was the kind of laughter that comes from relief from a large ordeal that could easily have been avoided. "So if she hadn't gotten confused, none of this would have happened?"

"No," said Edgar, laughing now too, "I suppose not." And they shared a laugh together.