Chapter Five

Natissa and Edgar sat across the table from one another. They ignored the brats playing in the sun-soaked grass outside, the sound of the wind banging the shutters against the window, the calls of the chocobos in the stable next door, and Branford's timid presence, and stared intently at one another. Edgar's mouth looked chiseled in a grimace, his usually flirtatious eyes narrowed to crystal-blue slits. Natissa matched his glare. But for all its intensity, Edgar and Natissa's little glaring contest was nothing compared to the way Wrexsoul and I were looking at one another. If the both of us hadn't been dead already, we would have been tearing each other to shreds. Alas, the most I could do was flip him the bird. He graciously returned it.

Both of us turned our attention to Edgar, who had started to speak.

"Miss Drakken..."

"I won't have more of your condescending gentility. Spit it out."

"What were you doing in Kefka's tower?"

She tossed her hair. "As if it's any of your business!"

"If I have reason to believe that you went inside to procure lost weaponry, and I assure you that I do, then it's my business, and the business of every other peaceful nation on this planet."

"I was exploring."

"You went into the ruins with a team of trained salvagers because you wanted to go exploring."

"Yes, that's correct."

"Where's the rest of the team?"

"Pardon?"

"You hired six. Two came back. Where are the others?"

"They were killed by animals; I don't know what that has to do with anything."

"Can you prove that they're dead?"

"What is this, am I under arrest? Would you like me to bring the behemoth in to testify? Is that it? Or maybe you'd like me to go back and bring you what's left of their bodies? If I can even find my way back to the Inner Sanctum-"

"Why would you want to go in there?" Edgar sounded thoroughly disgusted.

I saw Natissa's cheeks redden. Well, it's like this, Eddie, we were being chased by a giant animate statue of Poltergeist, and our path out was blocked at the last minute by a behemoth and a handful of Vector Lizards, so we had to climb the wall and we just sort of fell right into it.

That wouldn't sound suspicious at all.

"The animals had us cornered. We had no choice. Why don't you tell me what you really landed your little airship down here for?"

"I came in my airship because Albrook's port is inoperational. But I'll ask you straight; did you go into that tower with the intention of removing Magitek?"

Natissa's scowl shifted from Edgar to Branford. "I don't know who would have given you that idea. But for the sake of argument, let's say that I did. Magic is dead, Figaro, and I'd have no way of running it-"

"Except for Kyrithian-"

"Which I couldn't get in high enough supply to run the opera's stage lights, thanks to your efforts-"

"Do you think you're encouraging me to settle with you by doing things like this?"

"Doing things like what! You don't even know what I wanted it for!"

"So you did go in there to remove machinery!"

"Not to use as weaponry!"

"What other use does Magitek have?"

"I'm sure there are millions of other uses, as expensive as the parts in those machines are!"

"Then surely you can name me one!"

"For instance," Natissa said slowly, "The parts could be scrapped and used in an industrial-sized drill..."

"So you were planning on drilling wether I gave you permission or not."

"That's an awfully big conclusion to jump to. It doesn't hurt to be prepared."

"And you were willing to sneak into the ruins of Kefka's Tower in order to 'be prepared'."

"It was the only place I could get the materials-"

"-without my knowing!"

"If you want it straight, yes! Exactly! But you must have known anyway or you wouldn't have gone to such an effort to wreck my means of transporting them!"

"What do you mean!"

"Don't be coy with me. You got here in an awful hurry by airship after Albrook's port was destroyed. I suppose you just had a premonition that I was here and that you couldn't reach me by boat."

"I was informed of the situation."

"I thought she was a spy!"

"What?" Branford said.

"I am as sick of your innocent damsel act as I am of his self-righteousness!" Natissa stood. "You're the only connection Figaro has in these parts; you're the only person who could have told him!"

Edgar shook his head. "Terra didn't tell me anything. If you must know, an anonymous informant wrote me this..." He produced a piece of written-on parchment.

I glared at Wrexsoul. He crossed his arms and looked proud of himself.

Natissa stared at it. "I don't recognize the handwriting."

"Neither do I."

"Yet you implicitly trust it."

"No, my lady, I do not. But it's been right thus far."

"If a half-truth is a good enough excuse for you to plunge your beloved citizens into a war."

Edgar's stern face wavered. "Perhaps you're right. Anybody could be writing these, and for any reason; I don't want you to think that hasn't occurred to me. But... Natissa, I don't want to come off sounding 'self-righteous', as you put it, but only when you have seen the destruction caused by Magitek first hand can you understand the fear I have for it."

"I lived through the Emperor's raids, just like you! I was alive for the two hellish years of Kefka's reign! I know what Magitek is capable of!"

"I know you do," Branford said, "And you shouldn't have been put through that. Nobody should have. But you didn't stand there and watch, utterly helpless, as someone you used to know and respect got drunk with power and turned Magitek on someone you cared for... and on the entire world. I did."

Know and respect? Geeze, who was she talking about?

"So you can understand how we would be suspicious of anyone trying to remove the machines for any reason," Edgar said. "And I know they can't be run. Trust me, if I thought someone had found a way to run those machines, I'd be acting even more the curmudgeon right now."

"Finally admitting it, eh? Very well. I won't go back into the tower. I'll find the parts somewhere else. Is that satisfactory?"

I jumped from my chair and noiselessly cheered. Then I flipped Wrexsoul off a second time.

Edgar nodded. "Say. I was just thinking."

That must be a new experience, I thought.

"Do you remember when I said we needed to scour some maps drawn by an unbiased party? Why don't we get them here in Maranda? Maybe we can have this mess worked out before we leave town."

"That would be wonderful!" Branford clasped her hands together.

Natissa raised a penciled eyebrow. "I can't think of any reason why we shouldn't try."

"Wonderful! We can do that tomorrow!" Edgar stood and stretched. "As for now, why don't I treat both of you to dinner? It's not every day that someone like myself has the chance to spend the evening with two beautiful women."

"You certainly had me fooled," Natissa mumbled. She raised her voice. "I apologize, your Highness, but I will have to decline. I've other plans."

"Very well, then. Terra?"

"If you don't mind my bringing the children."

"It's settled then, O exquisite vision of loveliness." He hammily extended his arm. Branford looked like she was on the verge of bursting into laughter.

Natissa turned, grimaced, and stormed out of the place looking as disgusted as I felt.

But I couldn't feel too disgusted, considering that my team had just dealt Wrexsoul a near-fatal wound. He didn't seem too upset about it; he stood, gathered his ragged black-and-purple robes, and faded wordlessly through the wall.

I should have known that he was up to something.

***

You have no idea how much night impairs your vision until you have a way to directly compare a place at daytime and nighttime. In the daytime, Maranda looked like a run-down hick town in the middle of nowhere. But haunting the place at night, with the Magitek-covering tents snapping in the blackness like the wings of a Dark Wind, flickering illumination shining on the plastic as if it were sheet metal or flesh, littered street a chain of one jagged edge after another, I was one creeped-out ghoul. It didn't help that I could see bits of Magitek sticking out of the tents like oversized insects.

When a bit of black, torn cloth flickered in front of my eyes, I thought it was a bit of tent at first. But no; that tent was plastic and shiny; this had been dull, almost like a hole in the air. I turned and saw Wrexsoul, standing in front of the Prometheus Magitek armor, framed by its crimson glow as he had been by the wrecked Phantom Train, making sharp motions with his hands. Whatever weird little jig he was doing, it looked awfully familiar.

Shadow.

Shadow had been making those same movements when he...

"ZINGER!"

In a fountain of red fire, Wrexsoul vanished into the Prometheus armor.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, the long dead engine growled. The main wheel in the front began to spin. The mechanical claws on either side of the machine jolted to life, and its lights exploded into bright white, bringing false daylight to the street before it. And then, as if it had been splattered with ink, the machine's metal exoskeleton began to bleed black and violet, which spread until no red was left. With a cloud of dust, the rest of the machine's wheels churned, and it began to slowly drive itself down the street. Its rusty screeching could be heard for miles.

I flew after the fleeing Prometheus. There weren't many places in Maranda to take something that big; Wrexsoul seemed to be heading toward the edge of town. What was he planning to do with it?

I knew the answer the second the Inn fell into its headlights. Edgar's words jumped to mind. "Trust me, if I thought someone had found a way to run those machines, I'd be acting even more the curmudgeon right now."

"Oh, shit!"

Prometheus halted about a hundred yards away from the Inn. I could see smoke oozing from the barrels of its launchers. A second later, a shower of sparks trailed a missile all the way to the corner of the Inn. That corner erupted into flames like a volcano, sending bits of charred wood spinning through the air. I don't think Wrexsoul hit anyone, aiming for the side and all, but he'd served his purpose. People began to run, screaming, from the Inn, and Edgar, Branford, Relm, and Interceptor were among them. Branford was herding her brats behind her, but when she saw the machine, she whispered something to Edgar- then drew her sword and left them with him.

"Terra!" Edgar yelled.

"Get them to safety! Go!"

Edgar obeyed, herding the survivors down the stairs, toward the armor shop.

Branford was going to fight that thing? By herself? She must have picked up the "rush in headfirst" strategy from Leo, 'cause she sure as hell didn't get it from me. There was no way she could take that thing, and she should have known it.

As nauseating as I found the idea of rescuing the girl who'd killed me, I couldn't let her die. That would make Edgar even more resentful and suspicious, and it might cloud his judgement in his dealings with Natissa. I was angrier at Wrexsoul right now than I ever had been at Branford. I ran underneath one of the tents, found the Heavy Arms, tore the claw from one of them, and began to think about the Prometheus armor. I'd had a lot to do with the design of that model, which meant it didn't have any glaring structural errors like other nameless armor styles (*hack, cough, the Guardian, cough*). Add that to the fact that it was possessed, and I knew that the easiest- and maybe the only- way to stop that thing would be to take out the wheels.

I was dead. What did I have to lose?

Wielding the Heavy Arms claw like my old Morning Star, I charged the Prometheus and slammed at the tangle of fraying electric lines behind it. Wrexsoul turned it around, which was exactly what I needed. I crawled underneath it and began to use the claw to loosen the axle. Though it was roughly equivalent to sculpting marble with a butter knife, I managed to disconnect the first one while Branford kept the machine at sword point.

"You shall never succeed," Wrexsoul hissed.

"Yeah, yeah. That's what Gestahl said." I could see my scarred hands working through the tangles of wires and pipes, manipulating the Prometheus's frame as ancient grease dripped off of them and hit the ground below. "And where is he now?"

"I came across his spirit on the Phantom Train," Wrexsoul said, "And ate it."

"Really? He must have tasted awful."

"On this, and only this, I yield to you. So bitter a soul I have never encountered."

"That'll teach him to try and stab me in the back!" I laughed, then peeled off a layer of rubber tubing and threw it aside. Outside the Prometheus, Branford had managed to slice off one of the machine's grabber-arms. It sparked, and caused some of the stuff I was working on to catch fire. Fire has a really strange effect on me; again, I had to turn myself visible just so I could see its glow on my hands.

Finally, I managed to find the rod I was looking for. I didn't think I had time enough to disconnect it correctly and, hey, I wasn't going for neatness. Instead, I wielded the claw like my old Morning Star and bashed it into two pieces.

The wheel came unhinged.

Almost done. Just had the other side to go.

Branford buried her sword in the carapace, flattening the front tire. That slowed Wrexsoul, but he kept going. I used the opportunity to switch sides and began plucking out the wires. He wouldn't be able to keep going if the thing was immobilized, and that was what would happen the second I-

Raising the claw, I tore through the metal. The Prometheus collapsed on top of me, and I saw Wrexsoul float out, invisible, and disperse through the ground.

Chicken shit.

I stood and tried to wipe some of the grease on my hands onto the Prometheus's dented carapace, then I went about tugging the Heavy Arm claw out of the axle I'd lodged it in. I gave it a good, swift kick for emphasis. That was when I noticed that Branford was staring quite intently in my direction, her mouth hanging open. I snorted. She looked like she'd just seen a ghost.

Wait a minute...

"I'm visible, aren't I?"

"K... Kefka?"

I tossed the Heavy Arm claw into the burning Prometheus, then waved and grinned hammily.

Branford, who had been fighting like a rabid Hippocampus a second ago, vacantly shifted her gaze from me to the claw, from the claw to the broken innards of the Prometheus, then fell to her knees in a daze.

I vanished.

I should have been concerned about the moving Magitek, because Wrexsoul had done me some real damage with it. I should have been worried about Branford seeing me. But right now, both of those things were in the back of my mind. This entire situation left me with one burning question, and I floated back toward the ruins of my tower with fierce determination to find the answer.

What was 'Zinger'?