The Ninth Dragon

A Story in Two Parts

by Margaret Rennie

cobradov@twcny.rr.com

Part One: The Dragon Awakes

Chapter One: Peace, and Quiet, and a Sense of Purpose

Five years had passed since the Fall of the Empire, and this warm August afternoon found Locke Cole delivering freshly catalogued relics from the new dig at the mouth of the Veldt cave to the basement storeroom of the South Figaro Natural History Museum. He had been attached to the institution for over three of the five years that he had been settled in South Figaro. It had been a long time since Locke had had to remind anyone to call him a treasure hunter. He was indeed exactly that now, one of the most respected archaeologists in the field. Locke was running late. Celes had assisted him at home with the cataloging and packing, as always, but he was on his own when it came to loading and delivering the stuff. Celes was in no condition, of course, and there was the problem of this place. The museum now occupied the building where he had first set eyes on Celes, where she had been held and beaten by Imperial soldiers, and where Locke had found her, and freed her from her prison room right in this very basement. The place held bad memories for her, memories that still gave her nightmares from time to time. In support of her husband, Celes had come to the museum several times to view new displays brought in by Locke and his team, but she never stayed long, and Locke understood.

Today, he needed to get this job over as quickly as he could and get home to begin preparing for the family's trip to Figaro Castle the next day. King Edgar was giving a party, a celebration of his thirty-second birthday, and a reunion of the Returners. Locke was very much looking forward to seeing his old friends again. He and Celes sometimes saw Terra, whenever she came in from Mobliz, and Sabin only occasionally. And of course, the young family was very close to Duncan and his wife, who were surrogate grandparents to the Cole children and who did a lot of very welcome babysitting. They saw Setzer when they could get away to Jidoor and the Opera, but except for those few, they had not seen anyone since the raucous week-long party that Edgar had hosted after the Fall of the Empire, the occasion that was at once a Returner victory party, and Locke's own wedding celebration.

Locke recalled that time with fondness. He had come so close to losing Celes, on that desperate run from Kefka's crumbling tower. He had been furious with her, he remembered. She had foolishly run back for a piece of cloth she had dropped, something he had dismissed as a trinket. She had nearly been lost when the floor fell apart under her feet, and Locke had aged ten years pulling her back up to safety. Once Setzer's airship had cleared the ruined tower and the two had caught their breath, Locke had taken Celes by the elbow and steered her to a private corner. He had shouted at her and she had cried. He had felt like a cad when she showed him the bit of cloth that he recognized as being one of his own bandanas, and related to him the amazing sequence of events that had led to its coming into her possession.

"You saved my life then, too, Locke," Celes told him quietly, "and you didn't even know it." She looked out beyond him, her deep blue eyes fixed on a time long past. "The world lay dark and in ruins. Everyone gone. I thought I was alone, that you were dead. The miracle of that bird bringing me proof that you were alive out there somewhere...saved me. I couldn't have gone on, I don't think, if I hadn't had the resolve to find you again."

Her lip trembled, and her eyes moved to his face. "Draco may be the hero of song, but you are mine. I'm sorry I gave you a scare back there, but if you don't mind, I will keep this bit of cloth close to me always. I will never let it go."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and in that moment, Locke's heart was lost forever. Never leaving her eyes, he had reached for her hand and had taken the bandana. She had struggled for it, and he had placed her empty hand on his chest, covering it with his own.

"Take me, Celes," he had said, his voice choked with emotion. "Take me instead. Keep me close to you always. Never let me go."

Celes had looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. Then, wordlessly, she had stood on tiptoe and had kissed him deeply, lingeringly. And Locke had returned her kiss with a passion he had never before felt for anything, not for adventuring, not for Rachel. He held Celes' slim body close to his own and knew that, whatever his past, this girl was his only future.

When the victorious Returners gathered at Figaro Castle, Locke had stood during a series of sometimes solemn, sometimes humorous toasts being offered by the celebrants. He had held out his glass and had said evenly, "To my fiancee, Celes Chere, the most wonderful woman I know." And with that, he tipped his glass and drained it. Their friends sat around the table and watched him stupidly, their glasses still held up, unsure they heard right. Edgar was the first to react.

"Fiancee! Fiancee! Locke! Celes! Why, you little devils! We had no idea, no idea at all!" Edgar winked broadly at his comrades, their mouths agape, glasses still in midair. Suddenly, everyone began shouting at once.

"We knew it!" exclaimed Sabin.

Terra hugged Celes. Setzer saluted Locke. Cyan nodded, smiling and Edgar began rubbing his hands together.

"Well, well, this shall be an even bigger celebration! We shall rejoice in Kefka's destruction! And we shall have a wedding, yes we shall. I'll officiate. No, that wouldn't be legal. But I'll attend! Yes indeed! Your wedding shall be attended by the King of Figaro! Yes indeed! This will be Figaro's biggest party since my coronation!"

And so it was. It was a madhouse, lasting a full week. But there had been a day, in the middle of it all, one joyous, bright blue day, when all the Returners watched as the beautiful Celes Chere, resplendent in a flowing gown of white and flushed with happiness, took Strago Magus's arm, walked down the center aisle of the Throne Room of Figaro Castle, and became the bride of her Locke Cole.

In the following days, Locke and Celes Cole honeymooned in Jidoor and in the countryside around her. They picnicked in the warm sun, where Celes led Locke on a teasing chase, racing through the soft grass and dodging into the trees. She was a strong runner, but Locke was faster, and when he caught her, laughing and tumbling down in a riot of blonde hair, he captured the prize of his lifetime. They spent a sweetly nostalgic evening at the Opera House, and afterward, Celes sang for Locke the song from that magical night when they had fallen in love, but this time, she sang his name. They walked together, and they talked together and planned their future. The two had many things in common that had drawn them together, and an important one was lack of family. They resolved to be one another's family for the rest of their days. They swore never to allow themselves to be separated for any real length of time. They wanted kids, at least three, and they decided that they would settle in South Figaro. It was a bustling place, growing fast, with many young families just starting out, and it seemed the ideal place for Locke and Celes to begin their life together.

And they had been happy here. With the birth of twin girls, their family was well underway by the time their second anniversary had rolled around. Locke had found that he enjoyed kids, and they loved him. He had become a stand-in father of sorts to Leander, the young grandson of the old man who had lived next door to the Duncans. The old man had had too much of a love of cider, it was said, and his habit had finally caught up with him, leaving the young boy with no one to care for him. The Duncans took him in, but after losing his parents, then his grandfather, the boy seemed lost. Locke understood what it meant to be left alone in the world, and began to spend time with him. His archery practice sessions with Leander had developed into a volunteer job of coaching the other children of South Figaro. Around the same time, Locke had, much to his surprise, actually become a bona fide treasure hunter, one day when the head of the natural history museum invited him to come and help identify some relics found in the mountains around Narshe. And as if he weren't busy enough, the country-lover transplanted to the big city had cultivated the biggest and most thriving backyard garden in South Figaro. For Locke, life was very sweet indeed.

Bending over the last of the crates he was working on, Locke shook off his reverie. Time was getting away from him. He straightened, and brushing off his jacket, gathered up his papers and rushed home.

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Celes Cole stood alongside the crib of her fifteen-month-old son Lance, who was napping peacefully, his thumb stuck loosely in his mouth, his soft light brown hair mildly damp with perspiration. She fondly brushed a stray curl off his smooth forehead, so like Locke's. Slowly, she hoisted her eight months' pregnant body up the stairs of her home to her children's second floor playroom. Three-year-old Skye sat with her family of dolls arranged around her, playing tea party. Her identical twin sister, Cherry, however, was characteristically MIA. Celes shook her head. Where had that girl gotten to now? She was so fast! Downstairs Celes went, swiftly moving from room to room. Entering the basement, she saw the door to Locke's work room standing open. Aha! Peeking through, she spied Cherry sitting at his table, busily rearranging the new shipment of relics his team had just brought back from the dig near the Veldt cave.

"Chere Cole!" Celes scolded. "What are you up to there!" Cherry looked up guiltily.

"Daddy said I could!" she piped up.

"Daddy said no such thing," her mother replied, "and what will he say when we tell him about this?" Cherry wrinkled her nose.

"Daddy won't holler. Daddy never hollers."

That's true enough, thought Celes, looking down lovingly on her blonde daughter's pony-tailed head, Daddy never does holler at you. She watched the little girl and smiled to herself. The twins were absolutely identical, only she and Locke could tell them apart. And they were the image of Celes. But this one, the one named for her mother, was all her father under the skin. Funny, grease-fast and very agile. She had learned to walk a full six weeks before her sister. Endlessly curious about everything. Fiercely protective of her dolls and her pets and her baby brother. And glorious in the outdoors. In the open fields, they had to keep a special eye on Cherry; she was given to roaming. And today, it seemed, she was also given to breaking and entering.

"Let's go, young lady." Celes said as she pried a small stone figure from a chubby fist. She scooped Cherry up off Locke's stool and hoisted her on a hip. "Goodness, Cherry! You and your sister are getting so big, Mommy won't be able to carry you much longer!"

Just as they came up the stairs, Locke was entering the kitchen.

"There's my Cherry pop!" he cried. An affectionate term for his daughter, as if Cherry were not itself a nickname.

"Dadde-e-e-e-!" shouted Cherry, gleefully throwing her arms around his left knee. This was one of her favorite games, making Daddy drag her around with him. She giggled happily. Skye bounded down the stairs at the sound of her father's voice.

"I'm not running, Mommy!" Skye said breathlessly, all evidence to the contrary. "Daddy, daddy!" Skye called, looking up at him. "Guess what!"

"What, my pretty little Skybird?" Locke teased.

The children babbled loudly, trying to top one another, excitedly telling their father all the day's events. Celes sank gratefully into a chair. Locke regarded her with concern.

"How're you feeling, Angel Face?" he asked, his voice tender.

"Tired," Celes replied. "But dinner's nearly ready. I'm glad to see you." She kissed him over the heads of the twins on his lap.

"Where's the Tiger?" Lance. Locke had a nickname for everybody.

Locke and Celes sat in companionable silence at their kitchen table. Locke had given the children their baths, and had gotten them off to sleep with an adventure story about the Returners. Celes had had a chance at a peaceful shower, and now she sat sipping tea, relaxed, and draped in a white floor-length hostess gown, her glimmering hair cascading over one shoulder. Even pregnant, Locke thought, even very pregnant as she was now, Celes was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His heart turned over just looking at her. How did she do it, he wondered, with three little ones to chase after. Perhaps magic wasn't dead after all. He knew he would have loved her anyway. She was the bravest thing in the world, afraid of nothing. The smartest too. But to have this heart-stopping beauty as well, he would take it, and not examine his good fortune too closely.

The next morning was an unusually busy one at the bustling Cole household. They were readying for their departure to Figaro Castle for the King's birthday celebration. All the Returners would be there. Locke looked forward to this with great anticipation, Celes knew. Her physical discomfort had grown with her belly, and she was not sleeping easily these days. She would be glad when this baby finally came. She would have welcomed being able to sleep in her own bed. But she would have crawled to Figaro if she had to, before disappointing Locke. She knew he would not go without her, and he so wanted to see the old group. And as much as Celes would have liked to stay home, she too had missed her old friends, especially Terra. And except for Terra and Sabin, none of them had met any of the children. Besides, she and Locke had been married at Figaro Castle and she was nostalgic for it. So, with her physician's permission and a warning not to overexert, she packed the last of the children's things and joined her family in the transport that would begin their trip to Figaro Castle.

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The sun began to glint through the stained glass windows of the King's council chamber. Edgar was alone with Cyan, who since the destruction of his home in the Kingdom of Doma, had become Lord High Chancellor to King Edgar. They bowed their heads over a map spread out on the white marble table before them, speaking in hushed tones. Presently Edgar looked up and called to a servant hovering near the door.

"Ho there, man! Go to the kitchen and tell them I want a report of their progress in making ready for tomorrow. And tell the Housekeeper to check on the chambermaids. I want my guests made comfortable when they get here!"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Cyan and the servant bowed their heads to take leave of their King, and Edgar called out after Cyan.

"Remember, Cyan, come and find me if you have to, but I want to know the second, I mean the second that Locke Cole arrives."

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