nightseer

Chapter Five:



Harry kept his eyes open and focused on the dirt path, resisting the urge to slam his foot down on the gas pedal to get this whole driving thing over with as fast as possible. Driving was completely against his nature. Harry was a flier, not a driver. Give him a broom, a carpet or even a plane, and he’d be fine, but this was wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Snogging Draco Malfoy wrong.

Angelo’s whimpering and weak barks weren’t helping, either. They were better than the panicky directions and orders Rinoa had given when they first started out, but not by much.

“Could you make her stop doing that?” Harry asked, glancing at the passenger seat when Angelo let out a particularly loud whimper. Rinoa had Angelo in her lap and her eyes screwed shut. “It’s annoying. And distracting.”

Rinoa cracked one eye open, saw Harry was looking at her, and freaked. “Road, road!"

Harry turned all his attention back on the dirt path—nothing this lame could be called a road, no matter what Rinoa said—wishing he was brave enough to risk taking one hand off the wheel long enough to flip her off, but then he would probably run off the path and hit a cactus. The jeep could take it, Harry’s nerves couldn’t. He was finding out driving was much more difficult than sitting in the backseat and keeping an eye on the road for when Uncle Vernon decided yelling at him was more important. “You didn’t act like this when Irvine was driving. Could you please quit doing it while I’m trying to drive?” Harry snapped.

“The key word there is ‘trying,’” Rinoa snapped back, hugging her dog close. “Irvine’s had experience; you’ve had a ten minute lesson. The most you can hope for is not hitting something.”

“I think Squall is hoping I hit some people,” Harry muttered as they approached the gates of the prison. Rinoa snorted and shot him a disgusted look at Squall’s name—Harry assumed this had something to do with the idea of her crush wishing harm on anyone—and Harry’s fragile control on his temper snapped. He had volunteered to do this out of some twisted form of sympathy and understanding, and she couldn’t pretend to tolerate him for the ten minutes it took them to get there. He briefly pushed the gas pedal all the way down, then took his foot off, and, just to be petty and get revenge for her constant whimpering and the night before, waited a half a second too long before slamming his foot down on the brake.

Hard.

Harry had two seconds to appreciate the sight of two soldiers in blue diving out of the way and Rinoa’s panicked shout. Then the jeep crashed into the gates, the seatbelt almost cut off his airway, and he let out a scream of his own.

“I hate driving!” Harry yelled, his hands already going through the motions of shutting the jeep off. He wanted out, he wanted out now, but it wouldn’t turn off. He couldn’t get the key out of the ignition; he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to do!

Rinoa came to his rescue. She pulled the emergency brake up and put the gearshift into park, and Harry turned the car off, silently calling himself twelve kinds of an idiot for forgetting something so simple. With that done, both of them scrambled out, Harry grabbing the bag at the last second, and they got as far away from the jeep as they could. Rinoa threw herself on the closest soldier, crying into her shoulder about the bodyguards her father had hired abandoning her, while Harry threw the keys at another soldier and got behind him, eyeing the jeep like it was Voldemort.

Harry knew it was his fault they had crashed, he knew it was his fault Angelo looked like she was going to throw up and Rinoa was really crying, but…Harry shuddered and moved a little farther away from the jeep.

Cars, jeeps and automobiles in general had just made his list of evil, with jeeps at the very top.

“Young man, are you alright?” the soldier asked as he turned around. The man was trying to be comforting, but he was too close to laughing to do it properly. Harry scowled at him. It wasn’t his fault this world didn’t have normal travel like brooms and floo.

Right then Harry realized he was acting like Malfoy confronted with a computer and gave himself a mental smack.

“I’ve never driven before,” Harry said in a small voice, as he pulled the strap of the small duffle bag over his head to rest on his left shoulder so the bag was resting on his right hip near his wand hand. Carbuncle mentally voiced the relieved sigh Harry wanted to do when the man’s eyes didn’t follow the movement--it could have been the spells making the man believe Harry had run his hand through his hair or the man was simply ignoring it until Rinoa requested to see her friends, but Harry and Carbuncle were both hoping it meant the spells were working.

Harry smiled shakily at the guard, and just barely stopped himself from punching him when the big man completely gave up on being concerned and looked even more amused. Looking weak was good, looking weak meant he was underestimated; Harry was going to remember that. Even if it meant he dug his nails into his palm until he started bleeding to stop himself from knocking the cocky guard on his ass, Harry was going to remember.

“Rinoa’s terrified of it, and the guys just dumped us in the middle of the desert. I don’t know how we’re getting back ‘cause I’m not doing that again.” Shooting nervous glances at the jeep, Harry shuddered and wrapped his arms around his himself in a little self hug, the silent chant ‘Gotta look harmless, need to seem weak’ stuck on repeat in his mind.

The soldier laughed, a loud barking sound, and roughly patted Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry about that, little man; we’ll find you two a driver to take you back. Wouldn’t want you to come up on someone who can’t dodge like we can,” he said in a condescending voice as he wandered over to where Rinoa was still clinging to his friend.

Harry reluctantly followed—he was not little, damn it! Just short—and looked at the prison beyond the gates. His eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t taken the time to look closely at it on the drive up, being too worried about getting himself killed while driving to take his eyes off the dirt path, but now that he was seeing it up close, it was shockingly strange. The three buildings he had seen from a distance in the desert were shaped like giant, dark blue screws. Soldiers and guards stared down at them from the paths connecting the buildings at the very top, but the impression the buildings were waiting for some distant, overgrown relative of Hagrid’s to come along with a screwdriver and screw them into the ground remained. That or some god had dropped them on his way home from the hardware store and humans had adapted them to their purpose.

Harry shook his head at the shape of the buildings. People here were managing to be weirder than wizards if an architect could come up with something like this, and coming from someone who had seen the gravity defying architectural wonders of the Burrow and Gringotts, that was saying something.

“Miss, please calm down. Please, please, please calm down. Please.”

The last pitiful “please” finally made Harry look away from the prison and at the soldier Rinoa had tackled. The poor woman looked like she was going to explode from embarrassment if Rinoa didn’t let go of her soon. The male soldier was still amused and was awkwardly patting Rinoa’s shoulder—being a whole lot gentler with her than he had been with Harry—and trying to pull her off his friend at the same time.

Harry wavered. He knew Rinoa was mostly acting, but as far as the soldiers knew Rinoa was traumatized. He was supposed to be Rinoa’s friend and a friend would be supportive in a situation like this. However, Rinoa was the person who had drugged him, and Harry wasn’t planning on forgiving that anytime soon; plus he had chocolate type food in the bag and he didn’t trust her anywhere near chocolate. Of course, Squall and Irvine needed as much time as possible to sneak in, so the longer he let it go on, the better, but he shouldn’t make them suspicious either. Looking at the short road from the gates to the prison proper, Harry realized Rinoa was drawing a big crowd…

He finally stepped forward when Angelo started barking and growling at the soldiers, and he heard several guns being cocked above him. He quickly walked the rest of the way around the jeep, shushing Angelo, and gently but firmly pried Rinoa off the female soldier. Rinoa stiffened slightly when she realized who had pulled her off and her face briefly twisted into expression of distaste, then she threw her arms around Harry’s neck and started sobbing into his shoulder. Harry was tempted to tell her the feeling was mutual, but Carbuncle dragged a picture of Ron and Hermione to the forefront of his mind.

Right, he was supposed to Rinoa’s friend. Time to put his acting skills to the test.

“It’s okay, Rinoa,” Harry said in what he hoped was a sympathetic voice. He didn’t even try to look sympathetic; he knew he couldn’t do it. Instead, he looked down at Rinoa’s shoulder, wrapped his arms around her in a very uncomfortable hug and prayed no one could see his face. He was making the same ‘Oh god, I have to touch that!’ face he had made the first time they had used dragon liver in Potions.

Rinoa let out a particularly loud sob right in his ear, and Harry winced. He was horrible with crying girls; that was one of the million reasons he had enjoyed dating Ginny—she was more likely to hex him than cry on him if she was upset. Harry’s heart clenched, and he forcefully shoved the thoughts of Ginny to the back of his mind. He couldn’t afford to think about her right now, he needed to stick to the plan. If this didn’t work and something happened to Squall, it was a good bet he was going to be left here in prison, in the country Edea controlled…and Edea could take his magic and…

It was better not to think at all.

“Rinoa, come on, it’s going to be okay,” Harry said, looking at the soldiers for help. The woman looked relived Rinoa had let go of her and was now trying to regain her manly, butch points with her male co-workers by sneering at Rinoa’s dramatics; no help coming from that department. The man was still looking amused, but he was also looking a little, not much but a little, worried at the way Rinoa was carrying on. Okay, that was somewhat promising.

“We don’t have to drive back,” Harry said, turning his most pitiful ‘please help me’ look on the man as he patted Rinoa’s back. He wasn’t good at pitiful looks, Hermione had flat out told him when he asked her for help with his classes, but he was desperate here. He was getting soaked, Angelo was still barking, and the woman looked like she was seconds away from shooting either Angelo or Rinoa to cut the noise in half.

“That’s right,” the man said, attempting to make his booming voice soothing, earning himself disgusted looks from his comrade and the soldiers watching from the other side of the gates, but Harry’s gratitude as Rinoa calmed slightly. “Me or Fally here,” he smacked the other soldier on the back, making her stumble, “or one of the boys will drive you back into town.”

“Milo, I am not babysitting Caraway’s brat. Her file is longer than you are tall,” Fally spat, only to get a harsh glare and a terse reprimand from the man.

“If I say you are, Fally, you are,” Milo said in a soft threatening voice. “I don’t know if the rumors are true, and I don’t care. General Caraway is a good man, and we protect our own. You understand me?”

Harry watched the scene with wide eyes. Squall hadn’t seemed the least bit worried at sending Rinoa and him to the wolves, but finding out it was because Rinoa’s father was military was more than a touch disturbing. If Barty Crouch was anything to go by, government officials tended to get more than a little pissy when they found out their kid was acting out against the government they supported, and pulled most of their support away from their kid when the kid was caught. Harry knew the Crouch family example was more than a little extreme, but this dubious protection would only go so far. If that Seifer guy was here like Squall thought, the most Harry and Rinoa could hope for was not getting their arms twisted off on the way to their cell.

He quickly looked down again as the soldiers turned their attention back to him and Rinoa, and he started patting her back gently and murmuring nonsense that was meant to be comforting. He couldn’t think about this right now. It was too late to chase Squall down and tell him he thought Squall was being a moron to think this would work. Squall was probably inside by this point. Hell, Squall and Irvine were probably killing and knocking people out by this point…

Harry blanched as his mind completely caught up with his situation, looked past his desire to find a way home, and put most of the pieces together.

Squall was a mercenary, a man, teenager really, who killed for money.

Irvine was a mercenary in training.

And Harry was currently hugging a freedom fighter, and freedom fighter was just a nice way of saying terrorist.

Harry swayed, and suddenly his grip on Rinoa wasn’t just an act but essential to keep him standing. He was running around with the type of people he did his damnedest to avoid back home. If he took it one step further, Rinoa’s personality plus her current career made her a fuzzy, cuddly, far less evil, less insane version of Voldemort with Squall and Irvine as her minions.

Harry forcefully shoved that thought to the back of his mind, even further back than his memories of Ginny, and buried it as deep as he could. He could not afford to think like that. He had thrown his lot in with Squall the second he trusted Squall with his death, and his gut was still telling him he could still trust Squall. Squall had given him Carbuncle to help him control his magic so he wouldn’t be completely helpless, and Carbuncle was not only helping him with that, but keeping him company so he didn’t feel so alone here. To top it off, if Harry was honest with himself, he felt a lot better knowing someone like Squall was responsible for killing him if he went insane and started impersonating Voldemort. If he had asked Ron or Hermione, they wouldn’t have let him finish the question, let alone agreed to do it.

This world was safer with Squall keeping an eye on him for now, and Harry was going to stick with him…for now.

A loud, yelping bark from Angelo broke Harry from his thoughts. As one, Harry and Rinoa, still a little teary eyed, lifted their heads and glared at the female soldier, before Rinoa kneeled to check on Angelo. Fally had just kicked the dog.

“Fally, go open the gates,” Milo said in a near growl, his right hand twitching towards his gun. His friendly persona was gone, leaving a big and menacing and armed man in his place. Fally nodded jerkily and scrambled towards the small booth were the gate controls were.

Keeping one eye on Milo, Harry knelt next to Rinoa and held Angelo still so Rinoa could check her over.

Operation Jailbreak was not getting off to a good start.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Well, we could skin this little guy and wear him as a disguise,” Selphie suggested, kneeling in front of the small lion-like creature in front of her. Much to her surprise, its eyes widened and its mouth dropped open and it scrambled away from her, hiding behind Zell. Selphie watched it curiously. It understood her?

“Selphie!” Quistis hissed in a chastising voice. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“What Quistis said. This little guy's done nothing to hurt us,” Zell said, turning to grin at the creature. “Plus, he’s kinda cool looking. He’s like a lion, except his belly’s white. Kinda like a lion crossed with a house cat.” He scratched behind the creature’s ear and was rewarded with a loud purr. “Think Squall would like him?”

Selphie and Quistis exchanged a glance. Quistis’s admonishment had nothing to do with how cool or helpful the little guy was, but their complete lack of a knife to do said skinning with. Zell turned back to face them and he glared at Selphie, while the lion creature stayed behind him and watched her carefully. Oh yeah, the little guy definitely understood them if it was sticking with Zell.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Selphie said, holding up her hands in surrender. She smiled reassuringly at the animal. “I promise I won’t skin you. Or let anyone else skin you,” she added. “Or let—”

“Don’t start,” Quistis said quickly, stopping her before she could really get going.

Selphie pouted at her. It wasn’t like it was a long list. Quistis rolled her eyes, then nodded at Zell and the animal, and Selphie was lost. What was Quistis…?

The blonde woman pointedly looked at Zell, then at his gloves, then back at the animal. Selphie frowned for a moment as she stared at the pair on the other side of the cell. Then it hit her. “Oooh! Good idea,” she breathed, grinning at Quistis.

“Zell, you were Ward in the ‘dream world’, right?” Quistis asked.

“Yeah,” Zell said slowly, “But I wasn’t with Laguna, I was…” He smacked his forehead with his palm. “I know this place!”

“Ward worked here?” Selphie asked, wrinkling her nose. She had heard Zell talking in his sleep; she just couldn’t picture Ward ever working in a place like this. “Sir Laguna wasn’t with him?”

“Nah.” Zell shook his head. “Just Ward. He missed Kiros and Laguna a lot, though. He wants to be fightin’ alongside Laguna again.”

Quistis and Selphie sat up, and Quistis was practically quivering with excitement. Selphie didn’t blame her. She missed her baby the same way Quistis missed her whip.

“Do you know where they might keep our weapons?” Quistis asked quickly.

Selphie sighed and slumped back on the floor when Zell laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. He didn’t know.

“I might,” Zell hedged. He smiled brightly and stood up, cracking his knuckles. “Don’t worry, ladies. I’ll get them!”

The little lion creature bounced and yowled at them. A few pantomimes later and Selphie’s hopes of reuniting with her Morning Star were restored. Even if Zell couldn’t find them, the little guy knew where their weapons were.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

If the watch of the soldier trying to cut off Harry’s airway was right, it had only taken twenty minutes from getting out of the jeep to stopping where they were now for Harry and Rinoa to officially get arrested. Unofficially, Harry suspected they were caught the second they stepped inside.

Harry’s eyes flickered to the blond man running his mouth and wondered if their unofficial arrested-ness had more to do with this guy’s amusement than any reasonable valid reason. After a few minutes of listening to the man do a piss poor job of interrogating them and recounting the number of men surrounding them (who the hell needed two prison guards and eight soldiers for two prisoners and a dog?), he knew it did.

Bored again, Harry stared at the blond teenager, marveling at how cocky he was. Seifer (Harry was assuming blondie was Seifer, as no one was bothering to do introductions) had to know Squall was in the prison. But instead of doing the logical thing and locking them up in the first empty cell he could find and hunting Squall down, he was gloating. Oh sure, he had ordered a couple of soldiers to look for Squall, but he was also waving his sword-gun thingy around every once in while, asking the occasional question and making threats here and there while most of the speech was focused on Seifer’s gloating and various insults.

“You have little freak kid here as your backup? He’s scrawnier than Chicken-wuss…”

Having absolutely no interest in listening to a bunch of insults disguised as questions, Harry’s short attention span had kicked in less than a minute into the speech. It wasn’t all that different from Malfoy Sr.’s rant—had it really been yesterday afternoon?—when the man had found Harry roaming around his house, and Harry was getting bored fast with the current version. The only differences he could find between Seifer and the Malfoys’ were Seifer’s green eyes, his grey trench coat replacing Malfoy Sr.’s threadbare robe, his lack of insults towards muggle borns, and Seifer didn’t spit when he talked. Seifer had the slicked back blond hair and arrogant ‘I am better than you and you better acknowledge that if you want to live’ Malfoy attitude down perfectly. If it wasn’t for the dark blue-grey metal walls and floor, Harry would have thought he was back in Malfoy manor.

“What did you two think you were going to do? Charge in and rescue the SeeDs, princess?” Seifer scoffed, and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please…”

Harry tuned Seifer out again—semi-evil villain speeches didn’t change, no matter what reality you were in. Just for a change of scenery, he looked at the soldier dressed in red. This guy’s armor included shoulder guards attached to his breastplate and a sturdier helmet, much better than the flimsy breastplates and skull caps of the blue soldiers. Harry guessed he was a little higher up on the military food chain. He also had a keycard hanging off his belt. Harry glanced at the other soldiers; none of them had keycards, just the guards, Seifer and the red soldier had keycards. And Seifer’s and the red soldier’s keycards had a tiny little silver line that the guards’ didn’t.

Interesting.

Seifer started waving around his sword-gun thingy again as he ranted and was somewhat distracted. Harry stared at Rinoa and made little head jerking motions until she finally looked his way, then he nodded at the keycard. Rinoa was royally pissed off and all but growling at Seifer so it took a few times before she figured out what he was doing, but when she did, she nodded emphatically. Oh yeah, they were swiping that thing if they could.

The tip of Seifer’s sword-gun thingy passed right under Harry’s chin. Harry jerked his head back, knocking against the breastplate of the man holding him. He instantly focused all his attention on Seifer. Malfoy the third was a little more dangerous than Harry had given him credit for, especially since the blond idiot wasn’t paying attention to where he swung that thing.

“…sick of being my leftovers and became Squally boy’s new pet. Did you forget me that fast, princess? And here I thought we had something special. Or maybe you do every—”

“Shut up, Seifer!”

Rinoa jerked free of the soldier holding her, and darted forward. She managed to spit in Seifer’s face and get in one good kick before Seifer shoved her back at the soldiers, and she was restrained once more. A tiny part of Harry’s mind silently asked why they didn’t just use the handcuffs the guards had, but he didn’t take his eyes off Seifer. Rinoa and Seifer’s history went a long way towards explaining Seifer’s behavior, his ability to piss the girl off, and Rinoa’s inability to ignore Seifer’s insults. Looking at the two of them, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if this is what would have happened to him and Ginny if they had ended up on opposite sides.

Barely resisting the urge to twist free and follow up Rinoa’s attack with one of his own for Seifer making him think of Ginny like that, Harry hoped neither he nor Rinoa did something to really piss this guy off. They needed to get locked up with Squall’s friends, not end up dead. But with the way his magic had been itchy since the desert, his boredom, and Rinoa’s history with Seifer, it was a toss up to whose self-control would break first and do something outstandingly stupid.

“Cute, Rinoa, real classy,” the blond snarled, wiping the spit off his face. “I’m sure your mother would be so proud.”

“Go to hell, Seifer! My mother would be proud I stand up for what I believe in; yours would be disgusted, lapdog,” Rinoa spat.

Harry was surprised to see her blink back tears; although, after the argument about who was driving, he really shouldn’t have been. He wanted to say they were angry tears, but her hurt, vulnerable expression said otherwise. The whole situation began to remind Harry of a perverted version of Malfoy taunting Ron. He narrowed his eyes at the blond. He didn’t like Rinoa, but Seifer was pushing his buttons. Buttons he hadn’t known applied to the girl until Seifer took a threatening step forward.

Harry decided to blame what he did next on not knowing anyone but Squall, Irvine and Rinoa, purposely ignoring the way they kept reminding him of him, Ron and Hermione.

“It takes a real strong man to taunt his captives,” Harry observed calmly, relaxing against the soldier holding him. He wasn’t good at the whole acting confident while down thing, but he was going to try. “You’ve got us outnumbered,” he looked around the room, as if he was counting the soldiers even though he already knew how many were there, “five to one and you’re picking on a girl. Yeah, I think you’ve proved your manliness for the day.”

For a brief moment Seifer looked like he wanted nothing more than to run Harry through with the blade in his hand. Then he smirked. All the blood drained from Harry’s face as he met Seifer’s eyes. He didn’t know what that smirk meant for him, but the light in Seifer’s eyes did tell him something: he was dealing with someone who, unlike Draco Malfoy, but a whole heck of a lot like Narcissa Malfoy, had no problems taking care of anyone who got in his way.

“My Sorceress wants to talk with you. Did you know the only guaranteed way to drain an unwilling Sorceress of their magic is to kill them and force their body to give up their powers?” Seifer said, the smirk turning into a cold smile when Harry swayed on his feet. “Learn something new everyday, huh?”

“Go to hell,” Harry gritted out between clenched teeth, his magic rising up around him in defense at the implied threat. He tried to resist the pull to give in and let his magic destroy the man in front of him. He knew now why Sorceresses went insane here. His magic was calling him, pleading with him, begging him to let it loose so it could kill the thing which threatened him, and Harry…

Harry did not want to die or help create another Voldemort.  Both options sucked in Harry's opinion.

He narrowed his eyes at Seifer and growled softly. This bastard was not taking his magic just to give it to some power hungry witch! Giving into the magic’s call, Harry yanked a hand free and let his magic form an icy storm around it.

The man holding Harry quickly let go and backed away from the thick mist gathering in Harry’s hand. Some of the mist swirled down Harry’s body to pool on the floor, and the other soldiers backed away, raising their guns. Not taking his eyes off Harry, Seifer calmly reached out a hand, slid his keycard through a slot on the wall, and smirked. Rinoa started shouting warnings at Harry as a faint electrical buzzing sound filled the air.

Harry didn’t see anything but Seifer’s smirking face. He didn’t hear Rinoa’s shouts. He didn’t see the guards back away, or hear their frightened whispers. He didn’t see Seifer take his keycard off his belt. Harry was completely lost in his magic’s desire to survive.

The buzz reached a steady thrum, and the next thirty seconds were the most painful of Harry’s life.

Harry’s magic poured back into his body in quick, sharp waves; the pain topping a Voldemort cast crucio by a thin hair. The Cruciatus curse did create nerve burning pain, but this felt real in a way Cruciatus didn’t. Wave, after wave, after wave of magic pounded against him, in him. It felt like he was repeatedly plowing his broom into the ground, the impact getting marginally softer with each hit. His body was one giant throbbing bruise by the third hit, and the waves kept coming, pounding against him.

Harry’s world went grey. He doubled over and fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around his stomach to try and ward off the pain. By sheer luck, his arm brushed against the bag, causing him to look down. Gritting his teeth, he forced the last wave of magic to twist around the bag, adding an invisibility spell to the notice not charm, before he collapsed on the metal floor. Harry moaned softly as he stretched out on the floor, the cool metal soothing some of his aches. There was a constant prickling sensation to go along with the throbbing, but the thought Seifer and his goons wouldn’t find the bag now made it totally worth while.

“You bastard!”

Harry saw a pair of sneakers run past him, and heard the satisfying sound of someone’s nose being broken. He had once last thought before he passed out.

He hoped it was Seifer’s.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Halfway out from under the stairs leading up to the eighth floor, Squall froze.

He had heard Seifer’s threat and felt Harry’s magic fill the air in reply. He and Irvine had seen Harry’s magic, one or two little wisps of icy smoke trailing down the stairs and the large shaft in the center of the building. Shiva had sighed happily at the sight of the ice it created on the metal walls. Even the two curious little red-orange lion-like creatures pretending not to follow them since Squall had cut his hand three floors down, had seen it and sneezed as it swirled past their noses.

But now there was nothing. Harry’s magic had been yanked back up, Squall couldn’t feel Shiva anywhere in his mind, and when he reached for his stocked magic, Squall’s skin prickled like it was being poked with thousands of tiny needles. He let go of his spells.

Odine’s studies and papers on para-magic were required reading at Balamb, and he knew Odine had been working on a way to create an electrical field to suppress para-magic, something more reliable than the metal of the jewelry he had already made. The fact that it had proved to be near impossible was the whole reason why Squall had decided to take Harry’s warnings about magic and technology not being compatible seriously. Everyone, including the Galbadians, had adapted the technology from the jewelry to use in prisons and in sewers for monster control, but if the Galbadians had discovered a way create an anti-magic field and perfected it to the point where it forced a sorcerer into submission, trying to use para-magic wasn’t worth it. It also meant there was a chance they had been sneaking around when they hadn’t needed to.

Squall scowled. Seifer had turned on an anti-magic field and gained the upper hand in the process. They had knocked out thirteen guards, three soldiers and swiped a few keycards, but Harry and Rinoa had most of the potions in case the others were hurt. He and Irvine had been depending on their para-magic for healing and knocking out the guards. Now they couldn’t. They would have to be twice as cautious; dead guards would alert Seifer to their location a lot faster than a bunch of lazy guards supposedly sleeping on the job. Not that the twelve sleeping men locked in what was supposed to be an empty cell two floors down wasn’t already a big clue.

“Shit,” Irvine hissed softly from their hiding spot under the stairs, and Squall nodded. Shit was a good way to describe their situation; FUBAR would be even better.

“You bastard!”

Squall and Irvine stared up in shock, and the lion creatures leaned over the rail and looked up. The shout echoed around them, along with the sounds of a quick scuffle. Squall didn’t show it, but he silently cheered for Zell to kick Seifer’s ass.

“If Zell’s up there roaming around, where do you think the others are?” Irvine hissed. He stuck his hand through a gap between the stairs and waved at the cells. “Rinoa’s information said they were on this floor. We don’t have time to go looking for them.”

Squall ducked back under the stairs and glared at Irvine. He had been right there with Irvine to hear the soldiers gossiping about Balamb and Trabia Gardens. Just like Irvine, he knew Galbadia was going to fire the first round of missiles soon. The last thing he needed right now was some cowboy wanna be reminding him Seifer was going to blow up his Garden. Irvine held his hands up in surrender and Squall lessened the power of his glare. Slightly. Irvine’s Garden was safe from Seifer’s little power trip.

One of the little lion creatures squeaked, ran past them, and used a screwdriver from its tool belt to take the screws out of a large metal grate on the wall. The other ran off down the hall, growling softly. Seconds later, the first one had the grate leaning against the wall and there was the sound of several people coming towards the stairs. Squall and Irvine didn’t need animal’s prompting to climb in the air vent, but Squall appreciated it all the same. It was one thing for the creatures to growl out “gruarood, Laguna!” anytime a guard was coming and suspect they were trying to help; it was completely different thing to know the little guys were talking to him and not greeting the guards.

Squall grimaced as Irvine lay down next to him and half on top of him, then flinched when the lion creature shoved its screwdriver inside, almost smacking him in the face with it. It was a tight, dangerous fit, their feet were hanging off the edge into a larger air vent and the metal tubing was trembling with their weight, but it was better than getting caught. And with the way the creature was standing in front of the grate as it held it up to the wall, Squall see could bits and pieces of the people coming down the stairs—Seifer’s trench coat, Zell’s pants and Angelo’s short furry legs being the most obvious—but no one could see them. It wasn’t until the group had walked halfway around the circular hall and the soldier in red, a commander, moved back to speak with Seifer, Squall was able to see the pale blue of Rinoa’s duster and Harry’s black boots.

Squall tried to lift his head to see who was carrying Harry—how bad off was he that he needed to be carried?—but he hit Irvine’s chin and they both had to bite back a few curses. Squall had to bite back another curse when the move turned out to be completely pointless. The soldiers moved slightly and he could see Zell was the one carrying Harry. Squall blinked, and Irvine choked on a surprised cough. The soldiers moved again after one guard opened the cell door, and it became obvious why Zell was the one holding Harry: every soldier and one of the guards were pointing their guns at Zell and Rinoa. Zell was good at predicting an opponent’s next move and almost unnaturally fast at times, but no one could dodge seven bullets. Zell could dodge one bullet and maybe get away with a graze from a second bullet if he was lucky, but there was no way he could survive seven bullets at close range without a seriously strong speed junction, a Protect spell, a shit-load of luck, a blessing from on high, and a giant stack of Curaga spells and potions for afterwards. Add Rinoa into it and Zell’s ‘gotta protect the girl’ syndrome, and his chances went down past zero and into the negatives.

As Seifer waved Rinoa and Zell into the cell with his gunblade, Quistis and Selphie shouted something at Seifer. It was difficult for Squall to make out between the echo and Irvine’s weight shoving him against the metal tube, but he got the gist of it. In the back of his mind he wondered if Quistis’s fan club knew she could swear like that. Considering their stalker tendencies it was almost a given they did, but he hadn’t heard her do it before, even when Ifrit almost ripped her leg off during his exam. Then again, he and Seifer were Quistis’s pet projects and Seifer’s latest stunt would be a personal betrayal; Squall felt a touch stupid for being surprised by Quistis's reaction.

A clear ringing tone echoed through the hall as the gun-free guard locked the cell again. Seifer led the way back to the stairs, the commander and one of the normal soldiers staying behind to guard the cell. Squall shifted nervously in the air vent, and Irvine had his eyes closed and was silently praying or talking to himself. Squall didn’t know which, and he didn’t care either; Seifer’s approach was his main concern. Seifer had been too caught up with his “excellent” capture before to notice them, but now there was nothing to distract him.

Nothing except a furry lion-like animal holding up a grate.

A loud triumphant growl-purr rang through out the hall. The little lion creature that left before was running through the strange procession, dodging Seifer’s gunblade and soldiers’ boots and carrying a screwdriver in its mouth. The two animals held a quick conference, and the second on pulled a screw out of the first’s tool belt.

Irvine shoved his sleeve in his mouth and bit down hard. Squall stared in horror. The little guys were screwing the grate into the wall. He took back every semi nice thought he had had about the animals. They weren’t helping him; they were going to slowly kill him by locking him up in the air vents with the perverted cowboy!

“What are those things doing?” Seifer asked, stopping behind the animals.

Squall bit his lip to stop himself from saying something. It was an ingrained, instinctive response for him to react to that tone Seifer’s, as it usually accompanied insults about his ability with the gunblade and led to a session in the Training Center. Right now, with the little lion demons from hell locking him up with Irvine and the general stress from the jailbreak, he could use a good fight.

One of the guards stopped and shuffled his feet nervously. “They’re Moombas, sir. They take care of the repairs unsafe for humans.”

Seifer made a dismissive sound, and asked, “And they would be messing with the air vents because?”

“They clean the ventilation system out once a month to cut down indoor pollution, sir,” the guard explained. “It saves on cost because we only have to feed them and not call in a doctor when the prisoners get—”

“I didn’t ask for a speech, I just needed to know they had a good reason,” Seifer snapped, swinging his gunblade up. The guard squeaked and Seifer snorted as he stalked up the stairs. “I’m surrounded by fucking idiots. I can’t wait to leave this dump. Even Raijin on his worst days…”

The guard snarled something under his breath and stomped up the stairs after him, still muttering under his breath about arrogant, idiotic blonds.

Once the guard’s footsteps faded, the Moombas stopped and glanced over their shoulders at the soldiers standing in front of the cell. The soldiers were arguing about something, the commander getting in the other’s face. There was a quick, soft, growled out conversation between the Moombas, and Squall breathed a sigh of relief as they undid the two screws they had just put in. Maybe they weren’t lion shaped demons, after all. The Moombas fidgeted for another moment, playing with the screws and handing the screw driver back and forth so it looked like they were busy. Throwing panicked glances at the soldiers, they slowly eased the grate off the wall.

“These are the same punks from the Tower, Wedge!” the commander shouted suddenly, and the Moombas dropped the grate. Squall, Irvine, and the Moombas froze, looking at the soldiers, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It didn’t.

“But Lieutenant Biggs, sir,” Wedge said hesitantly, looking back at the Moombas. “Commander Almasy…”

Squall suppressed a derisive snort. The day Seifer Almasy legitimately made Commander of or in any military organization was the day he proposed to Headmaster Cid. Biggs obviously agreed because he snorted loudly, smacked his subordinate upside the back of his head, and unlocked the cell.

“Sir, that keycard turns also off the anti-magic—” Wedge said as Biggs pushed him in the cell.

“I know what it does, Wedge. But I’d feel bad if we kicked their tails without giving them some chance,” Biggs said, and he strolled into the cell cockily.

“They’re fully armed, sir.”

There was sound of a whip cracking as the cell door slid shut. Irvine climbed out of the air vent, Squall right behind him, and they ran towards the cell.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


After the electronic cell door closed, the first thing Rinoa did was dive for Harry, completely ignoring the others and Angelo’s nervous whimpers. Zell barely had the chance to put the unconscious teen down on the floor before Rinoa was groping Harry’s chest and shoulders. She wasn’t being a pervert (thank you very much, Quistis), but looking for something. The bag had flickered before disappearing completely after Seifer had turned the anti magic field on, and now Rinoa couldn’t see so much as an impression on Harry’s shirt of where the strap was or where the bag was resting. Harry had all their weapons in that bag, including hers. Not to mention most of the potions Squall had bought; Rinoa only had two on her, and Zell was already going to need one and Harry probably needed two.

Rinoa had to find the bag.

Rinoa ran her hand over Harry’s shoulders, pointedly staring at the wall. Harry hadn’t explained much about how his magic worked, but if her eyes couldn’t see the bag, her brain might trick her hands into not feeling it.

“Rinoa, what are you doing?” Selphie asked uncertainly, crawling over to her.

“Just a second,” Rinoa murmured, running her fingers slowly over Harry’s left shoulder, trying to feel the strap. She knew they were looking at her like she was crazy and Quistis was mumbling about someone being desperate, but this was important. She could explain after they were armed.

Shirt, shirt, shirt, shirt…

Yes!

Rinoa grabbed the strap of the bag and tugged gently, finally looking down at Harry. And there it was, Harry’s borrowed shirt was crinkling slightly, like something was tugging on it or rubbing against it. Rinoa ran her hand down the invisible strap to the bag, then felt along until she found the zipper. She unzipped it, revealing the black interior of the bag and their weapons, and she sighed in relief. Harry hadn’t vanished their supplies, just turned the outside of the bag invisible.

Her relief wasn’t shared by everyone.

Selphie squeaked, then squealed excitedly, making a dive for her nunchaku; Zell gaped, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find words to describe the scene that had tried to be perverted but not quite made it, and Quistis…Quistis was frowning thoughtfully, eyeing Harry and Rinoa.

“Rinoa…” Quistis began, but Rinoa cut her off.

“Squall trusts him,” Rinoa said, grabbing her blaster edge. She put the red round blade portion on her lap and began attaching her slingshot to her left wrist, letting Selphie grab Quistis’s whip from the bag. She wasn’t going to think about the consequences of jumping to Harry’s defense; she owed him a favor for driving here, terrifying experience though it was. The sooner she paid him back, the sooner she could go back to not trusting him with clear conscience.

“I was going to ask about the bag,” Quistis said, running her hands lovingly over her whip. Rinoa had seen Squall do the same with his gunblade, and it was just as disturbing now as it had been then. SeeDs were far too attached to their weapons in Rinoa’s opinion.

Rinoa nodded as she attached the blade to the slingshot. “Harry’s the reason the bag is invisible.” She paused, locking the safety, holding the blade in place. “The short version is Harry’s a sorcerer from another reality; he fell out of a portal last night; saved Squall’s life in the process, and now Squall trusts him somewhat. I don’t know the full story, only Squall does, but Irvine knows bits and pieces. Squall and Irvine are going to be here soon; I’ll tell you everything I know later.”

“Sorcerer? He’s why there was an ice show upstairs?” Zell asked, bouncing on the balls his feet. Rinoa was thankful his nervous energy hadn’t turned to shadow boxing already as she handed him a potion from the bag—they would need that nervous energy to get out of here. Zell took the potion and downed it with a shrug.

“You do mean sorceress, right?” Selphie asked. She was kneeling by Harry’s head and holding her nunchaku in a way Rinoa didn’t like. “Does that mean he’s with Edea?”

“If he’s with Edea, and Squall trusts him for no reason…” Quistis’s voice trailed off and she fingered the handle of her whip. Angelo whimpered loudly and edged closer to Rinoa.

Rinoa gave herself a mental kick in the backside. She quickly went over what she had said and realized how it might sound. She wanted to explain Harry’s presence without arousing too much suspicion, but she had made things worse. Even Zell had stopped bouncing at Quistis’s words and was eyeing Harry thoughtfully, all his excess energy focused on the person who might be a threat.

Great, just great. Selphie, Quistis, and Zell are going to kill him, and Squall’s going to be so mad. He’s never going to trust me with anything again!

“He’s not a threat!” Rinoa shouted. She batted Selphie’s hands away, knocking her nunchaku away. She snapped her fingers. Instantly Angelo was standing by Harry’s head, growling at Zell. The others froze, looking at Rinoa in surprise. Rinoa decided to take advantage of it; it wasn’t going to last long if she didn’t.

“He’s not with Edea,” Rinoa said firmly, looking at Selphie. Selphie nodded warily, her auburn hair bouncing with the movement, and Rinoa turned to Zell. “The ice show upstairs was because Harry was scared. Weren't you listening?  Seifer said his Sorceress,” Rinoa put all the disgust she could into that word, “was going to kill him and drain him of his magic. Said it was the only way to make sure she got his powers. Edea considers him a threat.”

Rinoa stared at Zell until he nodded and went back to bouncing in place. Then she turned to Quistis and frowned when the other woman had inched closer. This would be the biggest battle. If she could convince Quistis, the others would automatically leave him alone. They respected Squall; they trusted Squall, but Quistis had an authority Squall didn’t quite have yet. “Quistis, Squall-”

The electronic lock on the cell door beeped, and Rinoa said the only thing she could think of to buy time. She had said it before, but she was hoping Quistis would really listen this time.  “He saved Squall’s life when he fell out of the portal that brought him here.  He's helping us just because he trusts Squall.”

Quistis’s eyes went wide, then narrowed thoughtfully, before she stood up to face whoever was coming. Zell and Selphie joined her, while Rinoa tugged Harry to the back of the cell, and aimed her slingshot at the two men walking inside. Rinoa knew she would have to explain later, but for now she would focus on surviving.