Chapter 11: Meetings
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  Krathe, one of the last surviving members of the Black Plague cult, swore
under his breath, for what was probably the seventeenth time that day.
There were now only seven of them left, when there had been a hundred.  This
was all Scarecrow's doing.
  In a way, that was not quite true, however.  It had been their Great Master
who had killed most of them, after they had all failed to destroy Scarecrow.
He had said that he had decided to disband the cult after its many failures,
and then proceeded to kill them off, one by one.
  Only these seven had escaped that night.  Stripped of whatever powers they
had possessed, and left without the touch of their eternal master, they
wandered for weeks before finally deciding that the Black Plague Cult had
one last job to do: they would kill Scarecrow.  Then, their Master would
accept them again.
  Krathe swore again.  The only trouble was that Scarecrow had practically
vanished.  They had heard recently that he was back, and was hiring, but
there was no possible way of telling where he was now.  Krathe doubted that
he would fall for a fake job again.
  Which brought them to Jidoor, in hopes that they could find some
black-market punk who had some knowledge of where Scarecrow was.  It was a
lost cause.  Nobody here had the faintest idea...
  Krathe blinked as he looked up into the sky.  Was that... a black chocobo?
Figaro's forces had seemingly vanished, so the only person left who owned a
black chocobo was Scarecrow.  Krathe grinned.  The bird was landing in
Jidoor.
  "Hey, boys, look who's here," Krathe said, pointing to the bird.  "Our
good friend Scarecrow came to us.  Let's see if we can't track him down and
pay him a visit.  One that he won't ever forget."

  *******************

  Scarecrow snuck through the streets of Jidoor.  There was no need for
anyone to know he was here, yet.  Besides, he didn't want anyone knowing why
he had come to Jidoor.
  Dashing through the shadows, Scarecrow pondered what he remembered of
Banon's home base.  There was a decent route near the emergency exit that
would lead him straight to Banon's chambers.  That would do.
  Deep in thought, Scarecrow slid past the guards on the emergency exit.  He
would have to remind Banon to get more observant guards.  He could've sneaked
by them in his sleep.
  The rest of the base was in the same condition.  Scarecrow shook his head.
It was way too easy.

  ****************

  Banon was pacing the floor of his study when Scarecrow sneaked in, through
the open door.  Banon looked to be in a foul mood, reminiscing on days of
old.  Scarecrow smiled.  He was in for a surprise tonight.
  Scarecrow closed the door, just hard enough for Banon to hear it.  He
whirled to confront the shadowy figure that was Scarecrow.
  "Who's there?" Banon demanded.
  "Don't you ever worry about assassins?" Scarecrow replied.  "This place is
easier to get around in than Kefka's!"
  Banon squinted, trying to get a better look.  "Scarecrow?"
  Scarecrow produced a pendant from within his cloak, and raised it so that
Banon could see.  "In the flesh.  I have returned."
  "I had heard rumors that you were back in business, but never believed it
was possible."  Banon shook his head.  "How've you been?  What happened?"
  "I ran into some... trouble.  I think you may have problems bigger than
Sascha and Akfek.  Someone... or something... much, much, bigger."
  "I was afraid of that.  First Edgar, now them, with all this evil running
loose in the world, it was a futile wish that they were the last of it.  I
don't suppose you know anything else about this... evil."
  "Not much.  I think you'll be needing all the help you can get on this one.
I'd say Kefka was small potatoes to this guy.  But then, Kefka was small
potatoes to me."
  Banon broke into a smile.  "Modest as ever, eh, Scarecrow?"  He quickly
became serious.  "My original offer still stands.  Fifty thousand for every
hero you get to join us."
  Scarecrow nodded.  "I'll do what I can.  I think I know where most of them
are.  It'll take me time to get them all, though.  I assume the rest of your
arrangements still stand as well?"
  "Except for taking down Edgar, of course.  I assume you already know that."
  Scarecrow absentmindedly clenched his fists.  "Yes, of course.  Is there
anything new I can help you with?"
  "Except for Sascha and Akfek, not much.  Thanks anyway.  There is one thing
I'd like to tell you, though."
  Banon paused.  "I have chosen a successor.  Merine.  Perhaps you..."
  "Of course I know of her," Scarecrow interrupted.  "Go on."
  "Well, I believe she has the ability to lead.  However, she could use a
little bit of experience.  I... will be retiring shortly.  You have to meet
her, Scarecrow.  I don't think we can win this war without you, and Merine
will be running things soon enough."
  Scarecrow hesitated before breaking into laughter.  "To think.  The grand
leader of the Returners needs an assassin scum to save the world.  This
would make a grand tale."
  Banon laughed too.  "Sometimes, this is just like old times, my friend.
Working together to stop Kefka... what times we had."  A long pause followed.
"When are you going to take off the mask?" Banon asked at last.
  Scarecrow shook his head.  "I thought, once Kefka was defeated, I would
do it.  Now, I may never show the world who I am.  My privacy is vital to
my survival right now."
  Banon only nodded.  "I wish you luck, friend.  Is there anything you need
from me?"
  "Yeah.  Train your guards to be more observant.  I would like at least a
challenge getting in and out of this place.  And take care, Banon."
  Banon nodded, then turned away.  Scarecrow slipped out the door.

  ********************

  Scarecrow slipped through the corridors, easily evading the small groups
of people he sometimes found wandering the base.  The guard patrols were few
and far between, and it was easy for him to slip past them.
  Scarecrow shook his head.  That was the problem with the Returners right
now.  There were still too few of them, and they were still just common folk.
They needed more training, or they would never survive what was ahead.
  He was almost to the exit, now, and still there had not been even the
slightest danger to his secrecy.  Rounding a corner, he...
  Waiting for Scarecrow just around the corner was a woman.  She looked old,
though Scarecrow could tell the lines on her face were lines of sorrow, not
of age.  Scarecrow blinked.  She must have known he was coming.
  "What was so important about that meeting that I was not invited?" the
woman asked.  "I WOULD like to know about these things," she added in a
slightly rebuking tone.
  Scarecrow was still surprised.  "Who... are you?"
  "I'm Xyo.  And you?"
  "I am Scarecrow."  He paused, wondering if she knew the name.  No
recognition was visible in her eyes, but Scarecrow was unsure.
  "Interesting.  I've always been fond of the tall, dark, and mysterious
type.  Would you care for a drink?"
  For the second time in the conversation, Scarecrow was stunned.  "Uh...
sure."  He offered her his arm, and Xyo took it, smiling faintly.  They
walked out of the base arm in arm, headed for the nearest tavern.
  "Why not make it dinner?" Scarecrow asked, having regained most of his
grip on the situation.
  Xyo smiled faintly.  "Why not?"  This would be an interesting evening
indeed.