Tseng cursed and hit the end-call button a third time. Rufus, Elena, and Rude's mobile phones had gone straight to voicemail. Grimacing, he hit the speed dial for Reno and waited for the answering voicemail. He had come to expect it.
It picked up on ring two.
"Boss!" exclaimed a happy but quiet voice. "I thought for sure you were dead!"
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Reno," Tseng replied.
"Hey, hey, I'm just being realistic here. You can't count on a corpse."
"The President?"
A beat. "We fucked up, boss. They got him."
Tseng sighed, long and deep. Just what he needed. "Reno."
"I know," he hissed, furious.
"The others?"
"They have Elena. Rude's hurt pretty bad." His voice cracked a little on the last sentence.
"What happened?"
"Did you hear the announcement?"
Shake had been getting their chocobo saddled up and ready to go. He chose this time to cut in, peering around its yellow chest. "Who are you talking to?"
Tseng turned and put his fingers to his lips, scowling. In his ear, Reno said, "Who was that?"
"That's Shake," Tseng said. "You were saying?"
"You living under a rock, boss? Staniv showed up on TV to tell the world you and the Empress are sick, and they're not sure when you'll recover. Talking to you now, though, you sound pretty healthy."
"I was shot and incapacitated. They're holding the Mighty Gods hostage, and I have no doubt the statement released was a forced one."
"Who are they?"
"I don't know," Tseng admitted. "Their uniforms bear the Wuteng character for 'wave.'"
"I liked my name for 'em better. 'Those bastards.' Has a sort of ring to it."
"What is your position?" Tseng hated having to prompt Reno for information over and over again, but the younger Turk liked to talk in circles. It was a construct of his carefree, please-underestimate-me image, and often it translated to his behavior outside of business.
"I took Rude, and we're hiding out at a second apartment I rent under a fake name. What about you?"
Tseng eyed Shake, who waited impatiently to hear what was happening. "It's complicated. I need you to lie low until I signal you. You have a phone charger?"
"Yeah, and I even have indoor plumbing."
Tseng had become an expert in ignoring Reno over the years. "I'm going to need you to stay posted, possibly for a couple of days. How long can Rude make it?"
"If he lives through the night, he'll stabilize. I think." Reno sounded serious, for once, which meant, Tseng thought, that Rude was fighting a hard battle. Reno didn't really do serious.
"Good luck."
"Let me know what the plan is, chief."
Tseng hung up. This was not looking good. He wondered what the goal was in all this—who were Wave, and what did they want? It couldn't be just for the sake of it, so what did they have to gain?
"What was that about?" Shake asked, waving his hands in front of Tseng's pensive face.
Tseng sighed and braced himself for a long explanation.
…
They had escaped the previous night's conflagration mostly unscathed and set up camp after putting a great deal of distance between themselves and the palace. A copse of trees had shielded them well, though Tseng hadn't slept much. He'd spent most of the night listening to the sounds of creatures rustling in the underbrush, one hand on the Twin Viper.
Tseng's shoulder felt much better, however, and he was thankful they had managed to keep their mount. Shake had informed him was Yuffie's chocobo, Fluffy.
"Fluffy?" he had asked, eyebrow raised. Shake had shrugged and said simply, "Fluffy."
They made haste in putting distance between the camp and themselves by winding through Wutai's abundant, labyrinthine forests. He knew that further to the north or the south, the terrain became grassier, eventually bleeding into mountains and coast; the hills and trees clustering around the capital easier.
Tseng had been the lucky recipient of all Shake's most special attentions throughout the ride, ranging from commentary on his steering, to jealous, intrusive questions about Yuffie, to making implications that Tseng physically abused his wife. For that one, Tseng had cocked an elbow and jammed it into Shake's ribcage. With a satisfying oof, Shake had subsided, at least for a short time. The commentary soon started up again, but Tseng ignored it until they were able to stop and make camp in a hillside with a series of small caves.
They hadn't dared make a fire. Instead, they warmed themselves around the dull glow of the fire materia, Tseng manipulating it to let off a bit of low-level heat.
"This sucks," Shake said, turning his hands this way and that in an attempt to warm them.
Tseng studied the younger man in the materia's glow. He was small, with sharp dark eyes. Tseng thought he might look playful at other times, and he had seen Shake easily slide into a grin or a laugh in conversation with others. The arch of his brows and the tilt of his eyes gave him a mischievous air—akin to Reno but with less murderous intent. Tseng knew from observing him that he had a great many friends, no small number of them pretty young women. He supposed they enjoyed his passionate nature and easy humor.
He knew that Shake and Yuffie had grown up together, and that Shake had had feelings for Yuffie since they were teenagers. He also knew that, to all accounts, Yuffie had never returned those feelings. She spent so much of her time away from home, Tseng had originally assumed Shake's crush was more a type of hero worship than any feelings of real substance. The younger man's jealousy, however, said otherwise. Once upon a time, Tseng would have wondered how anyone could like the overly energetic woman after spending so much time in her company.
It felt like a long time ago.
When he pictured her, his thoughts flickered between two images, the first being the way she looked in the dress at the auction house, her body all sinews and power trading him move for move. The second image: her face as he fell into his own blood in the hallway.
Somewhere, she was in need of his help. He couldn't shake the feeling. Whoever these people were, he was going to make sure they paid for wasting his time and stealing his wife.
His wife. He'd rolled the word around in his head for weeks after the wedding. It never seemed to sound right. But now, with her gone and maybe hurt or dead, his mind kept returning to the term.
Shake hissed and jerked his hands back as the fire materia's light intensified. "Whoa, take it back a couple notches."
The chocobo snorted in the background, pawing at the ground, and Tseng eased the unconscious power he had exerted over the orb. He had to admire Yuffie's weapons; the Twin Viper was an excellent conductor for magic.
"Gil for your thoughts?" Shake baited, and Tseng snapped his eyes up to the other man's.
"We need to bed down and move at first light. A couple hours rest will do the bird some good." He set down the Twin Viper and strode toward their mount, preparing to disassemble the creature's gear for the scant few hours remaining in the night.
"I'm not staying here," Shake said, and Tseng barely glanced at him over his shoulder.
He could feel Shake's gaze burning into the back of his skull as he loosened the saddle. "Are you listening? I'm not staying here."
He strode forward and attempted to snatch the reins from Tseng's hands. Tseng was just a tad too strong for him, though, fending Shake off and stepping back. The bird squawked and moved with him as he pulled the bridle.
"I don't think you understand. The chocobo—" He refused to say Fluffy—"needs rest. If we keep up this pace, you'll run him to death, and then we'll be even worse off."
"You don't even care," Shake said in a low voice, brow pinched and mouth turned down. "Yuffie's just an inconvenience to you."
"I suggest you get some rest." Tseng had a lot of practice dealing with unruly subordinates, and ignoring them and moving on was one of his favorite tactics.
"We're wasting time," Shake said. "She could be hurt, or dying, and you want to sleep?" He lunged.
Tseng made to move the chocobo, but Shake was just a hair too fast, managing to get a hold on the reins. Fluffy screeched a bit, and the sound seemed to ricochet from the trees, sharp and alarming.
Since ignoring him wasn't working, Tseng leaned into Shake's face and said in a controlled, firm voice, "Let go."
"Give me the bird," Shake commanded, and it sounded like he had left a slur off the end of the sentence.
"I'll use physical force."
Shake returned his gaze with challenge, and Tseng struggled not to roll his eyes. A tense moment passed, and then another, in which the two men gripped the leather straps without budging. Finally, the Mighty God released the reins and stormed off to his corner of their temporary abode, muttering under his breath.
Tseng settled against the chocobo for an uncomfortable night's sleep, seeing as Shake had taken the saddle blanket.
He awoke what felt like a scant few minutes later and immediately wondered what had disturbed him. He heard the sound of gravel shifting and saw Shake silhouetted in moonlight at the mouth of the cave, facing away from him. He had a bundle in his arms, and Tseng knew at that moment he was leaving with their supplies.
You idiot, Tseng sighed inwardly. He stood, grabbing the Twin Viper as he rose. He would have to take Shake down, reassert his authority. Then, the electric sizzle of magic split the air, and Tseng didn't think. He tackled Shake, sending them rolling down the hillside.
They rolled down the hillside, scattering vending machine cookies and who knew what else in the darkness. Lightning struck where they had passed just a moment ago, making his hair stand on end and sending shards of rock and earth showering over them.
As he rolled to a stop and the world reeled around him, he heard the chocobo shriek with fear, saw it rearing in the mouth of the cave. Small pebbles rained down on him as Fluffy skidded out of the entrance and stopped just before a plume of fire split the air. Tseng heard the unmistakable shouts of discovery then.
Wave had found them.
He careened to his feet, his ribs aching where a sharp rock had jabbed him. Two yards to his right, the moonlight shone on the polished blades of the Twin Viper. He knew they had to act quickly; they were completely exposed in this clearing. From the cave, it had been their vantage point, but now that they had relinquished the element of surprise, it would be their downfall.
He put thumb and forefinger between his lips and released a piercing whistle. The chocobo paused in its half-crazed flight around the other side of the hill. Good breeding and training overrode instinct, and it wheeled around. To his immediate left, Shake struggled to pull himself out of the grass. Tseng swooped in and hauled him up by his collar.
They had no time to lose. Two flaming arrows whiffed by Tseng's head as he only just managed to half-fall out of the way. Fluffy—who Tseng was becoming fond of—galloped up, and Tseng swung onto her back with some difficulty, as the saddle was back in the cave, and they did not have time to retrieve it. He helped pull Shake up behind him, and they were off toward the cover of the trees again, going wide left of their attackers.
"Do not," Tseng growled as they made their second escape, "attempt to leave me again."
"We were wasting time—"
"They might have gone on without discovering us had you stayed in the cave until morning. Now we've lost all our supplies as well as our saddle and reins. Do not disobey my orders again."
He and Shake remained in stony silence for the rest of the night.
…
Any word from Strife or the others?
Reno's text message took a long few minutes to come back. Nothing, so far. Staniv came on again to report more of the same. You're sick and can't come out or whatever.
Tseng sighed and snapped his phone closed, frustrated. He wished he knew what to make of all this, who these people were and what they wanted, exactly. Some sort of terrorist group, for sure, but he felt he was missing some crucial piece of the puzzle. He didn't know where it might be, but he was sure he was right on the verge of epiphany.
"How much longer?" Shake interrupted his thoughts.
"I'm not sure."
In combination with Shake, the bareback soreness and the dried blood and sweat in his stiff, days-old clothes were really starting to wear on Tseng's nerves. Normally, he didn't mind roughing it, but with Shake there to provide a vocalized complaint list, Tseng had been grinding his teeth more than usual.
They had ridden at a slow pace through the day, set up camp again when night fell, rested for a few hours, then got moving again. At some point, Tseng was going to have to acquire some new clothes, as the robes he wore were obviously fit for a king, even half-destroyed as they were.
A king—it was strange, thinking of himself in that manner, even after six months of being just that. Tseng had played the loyal servant all his life. To be the king at this point seemed an almost absurd. He would always be a slave to someone, whether that be Rufus or his own young wife. If he could just get Yuffie back safely, he might be content with it.
He saw lights through the trees and knew they were coming upon one of the nearby villages. Hopefully, some carefree individual had left laundry out on the line. He slowed the chocobo and dismounted, wincing as his knees creaked and his thighs throbbed.
"What are you doing?" Shake demanded. "Where are you going?"
"After we've rested, I'm getting a change of clothes."
"Fat chance," Shake scoffed, slipping out of the saddle and taking his place beside Tseng, who had tied the reins to a thick branch. Fluffy was their ticket to Yuffie. "First resting, now you're going shopping?"
"If you would prefer I attempt to remain unnoticed while dressed in blood-soaked emperor's robes, then I don't think I will endeavor to please you. Make camp. When it's full-dark, we'll proceed."
…
The next time Lin visited, Yuffie had had the night to think. Or, more accurately, to stare at the dark ceiling and chew the inside of her cheek as worry threatened to consume her. She slept fitfully on the opulent bed and woke tangled up to her waist in the sheets.
The knock at the door heralded Lin's entrance. She wore a short, dark red kimono with flowing black pants today, and her heels thudded in the thick carpet. Her eyes searched Yuffie's face a moment before she asked, "Did you sleep well?"
Petulance lanced through Yuffie. "Why pretend you care? Why the swank arrangements?"
Lin gestured for Yuffie to join her in the pair of chairs. Yuffie had started to hate the chairs; when Lin wanted to play games, she put them on the appearance of equal footing. "You would rather I shackle you and starve you?"
"I guess that wouldn't be much of a choice," Yuffie said with no small amount of derision.
"Now you've got the idea." Lin flashed her a dazzling, genuine smile, as if she were the teacher and Yuffie were the last second grader to grasp double-digit subtraction. "Have you thought, your highness," she began in a clear redirection of the conversation, "how much you have given to Wutai?"
Instead of throwing one of her feather pillows at Lin's immaculate face, Yuffie rose from the bed and settled in the chair opposite Lin. "Yet the people don't like me and I haven't done enough."
Lin folded her hands, face serene, a serene half-smile playing about her lips. "You've lost your mother, your father, and your youth to rescuing this country, Empress. When will it be enough?"
Yuffie agreed that she had lost much, but Wutai hadn't taken it from her. War and greed and men mad with power had done that. Wutai was her home, and it was full of people it was her duty to protect. Her mother, her father; those losses were part of life and people's cruelty, and life and people could be real assholes sometimes.
"It will be enough when I can't take it anymore," Yuffie finally said. And I can take a hell of a lot more than this, lady.
From her voluminous sleeves, Lin produced a square of gray paper. With careful, almost reverent hands, she unfolded and smoothed it over her knee. Even though it was upside down, Yuffie recognized the front-page photograph of her and Tseng with the Jade Dragon illuminating the background. Looking at it now, she saw details she hadn't before—the way her bloody feet dragged on the pavement; how Tseng's hand under her elbow was the only thing keeping her vertical. Most importantly, the real concern written in his features: the pinch between his eyebrows, the slight frown, the way his eyes were riveted to her face.
"For a sham marriage, he looks worried about you," Lin said after a moment. She plucked the clipping from her knee, turning it over and over in her long white fingers. Yuffie's eyes tracked the movement, mesmerized. She wanted to snatch it and shred it. "No matter now that he's dead, I suppose. Just one more name to add to the list of people who have given their lives to Wutai."
Lin extended her arm, holding out the picture. Yuffie took it with only a moment of hesitation.
"May I ask you something, Yuffie?"
This use of her first name when before Lin had been the picture of manners startled the young Empress. She looked up, surreptitiously tucking the picture into the front of her robes. "If I say no, you're going to ask anyway."
Lin ignored her. "When do you get a choice? When do you get to stop giving and live a life of your own making?"
Yuffie wanted to dismiss the question outright, but she found herself thinking about it despite herself. Was Tseng really dead? Yuffie hadn't thought her relationship with Tseng could be any more complicated, but that photograph stirred up doubts. If he had real feelings for her, and he was dead… had she given enough?
And what about Wutai? One of the main reasons she had taken the throne was for lack of any better substitutes. Here was this woman offering herself on a silver platter. It sounded too good to be true, but maybe, just once, the gods wanted to give her something good. Maybe this was her ticket out. Could she fade into obscurity and still live with herself as the hobo of the Nibel Mountains? How would her people respond to another upheaval after thirty years of strife and challenges? Would they remember her as the Empress Who Ran Away?
"I've studied for decades to salvage Wutai, your highness," Lin began, interrupting Yuffie's churning thoughts. "If you left your home in my hands, it would be safe."
"You've studied for this?" Something niggled at the back of her mind; something hazy but nevertheless important. She struggled to grasp it.
Lin tipped her head. "After I escaped from the brothel, I spent many years in the Shizuka Shimai Convent in the southern mountains. I didn't know, at first, what I was studying. I just read. They had the most impressive library, and I could barely string a sentence together. My education was such that reading and writing had been mostly useless to me. After a few years of healing and learning, though, I knew I wanted to fix Wutai. I wanted to give people the choices I never had."
Yuffie stared at her hands. Her thoughts warred in her head, and she felt like she might be torn in two. She looked up when Lin rose from her chair and said, "Take more time to think, your highness. You have less than two days."