Chapter 2

Link was nothing if not patient. He kept to the shadows of Wraith's End, hidden in the narrow back streets where the lonely, the desperate and the mad made their home. No one looked at him. Most made a point of it. He, on the other hand, watched them all.

Traders, fishwives, smiths and maids bustled through the loud and busy thoroughfare that cut a path directly through the centre of the city. Exotic scents accompanied even more exotic tongues. Link had to give the desert dwellers some grudging respect – they'd built a truly representative society. You wouldn't see that in Hyrule. Everyone kept to their own tribes. It had been a devil of a task just to get them all to fight together in the Long War. Cost the princess half the public treasury.

Or so he'd heard.

He didn't doubt it. Link had made it his business to keep himself informed.

You could spot a Gerudo a mile away, even before the sun glinted off a stylised metal mask. Something in their gait, their raised chins and stiff backs that said plainly to everyone who'd look: We are the masters here.

But it wasn't the Gerudo that interested him today. Link liked to keep himself abreast of events related to the princess and she, in turn, tried to keep her eye on him as well.

And she wasn't the only one.

Link scanned the street again. A red-faced maid carried a steaming tub of water, ready for the day's laundry. Water sloshed over the side. A nobleman, Hylian, stepped into the resultant puddle, his eyes down, his fine silk cloak now leaving a wet trail through the dirty road. A woman with an elaborately painted face stepped on the cloak, put a finger to her lips to cut off the nobleman's protest, then leaned in close and whispered into his ear.

Link turned away. None of them had the tell-tale demeanour, that way of moving just so, that calm poise and bearing that marked them as one of the Sheikah. One of the Lost.

He glanced up, saw the white sun directly overhead. He'd been watching since dawn. No one from the Lost. No spies from the princess.

Adjusting the rag wrapped around the lower part of his face, he slipped easily into the street. Smoke from sizzling cook fires nearby wafted into his eyes. His nose twitched at the scent. Roast onions and charred dripping hunks of fish. A cold knife of hunger twisted in his gut. Link ignored it.

He blinked, stepped over a rotting mound of sludge that was either spoilt food or animal waste – the flies didn't seem to care either way – and then opened the door to a small shop. A bell jingled.

The young Hylian crouched behind the counter didn't look up. "Be with you in a mo."

Dust motes spiralled through the air. A vast curtain of keys of various shapes and sizes hung from the ceiling, each twisting at the end of its own personal wire. They gleamed gold under the sunlight that shafted in through the shop's solitary window. Still the young locksmith ignored him, busy as he was bustling with some wooden boxes on the floor.

Link glanced out through the window. Passersby passed by. No one had paid his entrance any attention.

There were no other customers. Link pulled the rag from his face then pushed the door closed with his heel. The young man glanced up, then froze. Slowly he stood, his face taut.

Link smiled. "Fine morning t'you."

"Morning's passed," the boy replied. His fingertips danced against each other. "And she's not here. Go away."

Link crossed the room in an instant. The young Hylian jumped at the swiftness of the motion. Keys went into a spiralling loop, striking each other with a dull chime. The dust motes parted in a swirl. Link reached the counter and his gloved hands came to rest on the pitted wood surface. He opened his mouth to speak.

The bell tinkled again. Looking past Link's shoulder, the boy instantly had a smile ready on his face. All business once again. Link pushed the rag back up. He waited.

While the young Hylian talked shop with the customer – overweight, thinning grey hair and a gaudy tunic too bright and intended to be worn by someone a lot less older; not someone either the Lost or the princess would recruit – Link turned his mind back to the message the Gerudo woman Vela had delivered.

It unnerved him. Not the content of her words, but the fact that she'd known that he'd be there that night. That was enough to put him on edge. As for the message itself…well, he'd filed it away in a corner of his mind. Dark prophecies were the meat and potatoes of the gossip hounds of Castleton. There was a new one every week and twice on eclipse nights.

He'd give this one its due. But only after he'd found his Saria. And his answers.

Which meant that he'd eventually have to pass the message onto the princess. His heart twisted at the very prospect. The princess treated him kindly enough, thought of him as a friend and respected his skill, but all that they'd shared in their battle against the King of Thieves had somehow, impossibly, leaked from her mind.

And she didn't trust him. Her spies were testament enough to that. Why should she? A decade into the Long War she'd asked him to lead her armies as its sole general. He'd turned it down. Struck out on his own as a ranger. The princess couldn't afford to have any rogue elements in her midst. He understood that.

The ringing of the bell broke into Link's thoughts. Again he waited. A beetle scuttled over the wood. He watched its shiny shell navigate its way toward him.

The patron now dealt with, the Hylian boy took his place behind the counter once more. He wiped his hands on his tunic and turned to regard Link. "You're wasting my time."

"Yes, I am," Link replied. He flicked the beetle away. "You're new, aren't you? Haven't seen you before. What's your name?"

The Hylian ignored him. He shook his head. Grey eyes flicked from the bow strapped to Link's back, then down to the sword dangling at his waist. "You'll scare the customers away."

Link glanced over his shoulder, took in the sight of the empty shop, then turned back to the boy. "I can see them bolting for the door before my very eyes."

Wonder of wonders, the young Hylian actually laughed. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he looked at Link in a new light. "My name's Adair."

"Morning, Adair. Or afternoon, like you said." He smiled. "I'm Link."

"I know," Adair said. "She told me you might show up one day. Described you right, too. Even down to the colour of your tunic. How'd she know you'd be wearing green is beyond-" It hit him just then. "Oh. You don't wear any other colour. Right."

Link drummed gloved fingers on the counter. Time to get to the meat of it. Clearing his throat, he looked Adair straight in the eye. "I request an audience with your mistress."

Adair laughed again. His easy manner was starting to seem forced. "I told you, she's not here."

Sapphire eyes grew cold. Link shook his head. "No, boy," he said. "You don't turn down a formal request. Those are the rules. She set them."

Adair swallowed, his lips pursed. "Let me close the shop then."

Link waited while the boy snapped rusted bolts shut and let down the deerskin drapes. Adair was young and could be forgiven for not knowing the Old Ways, not knowing all the subtle customs that anchored people to civilised life. Sadness still bruised his heart, though. How many others had forgotten? How long before the light flickered and died?

He thought about Vela, about how she'd impressed him, and the knot of his disquiet untied just a tad. She'd be safe now. If she was clever, she should have fled the city. Link had dumped the Gerudo Chief Geldman in a sewage creek outside of Wraith's End. He'd neglected to untie him first. That should have given Vela plenty of time to act.

Adair returned, plucked one of the dangling keys from the air, and then unlocked a door behind the counter. Unoiled hinges squealed as the door swung open revealing a narrow stairwell beyond. Adair glanced at Link. "Follow me."

The stairs protested noisily as the duo began their ascent, Adair leading the way. Link glanced up. "Say, do you know anything about a Tanner Drow's?"

The boy sniffed. "You'll be wanting to avoid that place. It's not a tannery for a start," he replied. "More like a hovel. It's not too far from here. Just off Old Temple Road. North from here, then right at the – oh. What's this?" Adair crouched, spying something lying on the step ahead –

Then slid free the knife strapped to his shin, bringing it around in a deadly arc aimed for Link's head. Eyes wide, Link's neck snapped backward out of harm's away. That was going to hurt in the morning.

Shifting his weight, Link dodged the boy's next lunge, then snaked out an arm and caught him by the wrist. They stood for a heartbeat, each straining against the other. Adair gasped as Link wrenched the limb. The knife clattered to the ground, bouncing down step by step. A sharp elbow to the gut brought the boy to his knees.

"Enough!"

Link looked up at the source of the voice. A tall Gerudo woman, regal in her poise, looked down at him through a half-mask carved of ivory and shaped in the image of an eagle.

"Nabooru," said Link. "Hello." He gestured at Adair with a nod. "Just breaking him in. He's new, you know."

"He's not new," Nabooru replied. "It's just that you haven't been here for, oh, what is it? Two years now? Three?" Dark eyes flashed. "Try not to damage the kid, will you?"

"Not at all," said Link. "You would not believe how happy I am." He held out his hand. Adair glared up at him, fingers rubbing his now swollen wrist. After a moment, he took Link's hand and allowed himself to be hauled up.

Link brushed dust off of the boy's shoulders. "So you do know the Old Ways. The Stranger's Trial. The way to welcome a new warrior to the hearth. I'm glad."

Adair's voice was withering. "I'm so happy you approve."

Nabooru's eyes flicked to the boy. "Open up the shop, kid. I'll keep our guest entertained."

Adair bowed his head. "Mistress." He turned to Link, a sour look in his eyes then, after a moment's consideration, gave him a short nod. He sniffed. "It was good sport. You're a worthy opponent."

The proper respect due to the victor. The Hylian did know the Old Ways. Link nodded in return, then climbed the rest of the stairs.

Nabooru had already entered her chambers. A Deku Pipe hung from her lips and grey halos of smoke began to puff slowly into the air. She gestured for Link to sit while she herself sank into a pile of scarlet cushions on the carpeted floor.

Link sat cross-legged, his equipment jangling with the motion. He spied some nuts lying on a brass plate nearby. Reminded of his hunger, his eyes narrowed, mind calculating. After a final moment of soul-searching, he scooped a handful of nuts into his mouth.

Nabooru raised an eyebrow. "Help yourself, why don't you."

Link smiled as the nuts crunched between his teeth. Seasoned practitioners of the Old Ways would have frowned on such impropriety. Abuse of hospitality it was. Poor manners from a guest. But a Vor Shahal phrase drifted into his mind: There is no formality between friends. And the Vor Shahal would know. After all, it was the Lost that had taught him all the Old Ways in the first place.

Nabooru waited until he'd finished. She gestured at a pewter jug sitting next to a cup nearby. "Water?"

Link sucked the salt from his lips. "Please."

As the Gerudo woman poured him his drink, Link pressed on. "Kokiri Village. It's gone."

"I heard." She glanced up. "I'm sorry."

Link swallowed down the sudden surge of grief. "Saria wasn't there." He let out a long breath. "I don't suppose you've heard any news?"

The Sage of Spirit shrugged. She handed him the cup. "I don't know any more than you, Link. It was a squadron from the Gerudo army – but who and why is beyond me."

"I've been told Tanner Drow's is the place I need to be." He sipped the drink, savoured the cool water trickling down his throat. "Any idea why?"

Nabooru smiled. "Straight to the point as usual. Same old Link. No 'how are you? What's been happening?'"

Link felt the heat rise to his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

Nabooru waved his apology away. She lifted the pipe from her lips, then let a stream of grey smoke billowing into the air. She glanced at him, just for a moment, then said, "There's someone at Drow's called Scavenger Red. He usually has his finger on the pulse and in many pies. He's probably the one who has some information."

Link knew that paranoia and suspicion were unhealthy, knew that were the realms of either a sick mind or a damaged one. The Old Ways were adamant on that. Who are you to try and pry into another person's mind, they said, and what makes you so certain that your assumptions are so absolute?

And yet the glance Nabooru had given him was just a little too lingering. This is what he hated about conversation in general. Sometimes it turned into a swordfight. Link decided to go for a thrust.

"Have you heard of the Sorrow?"

Her left eye flickered. Just for a fraction of a second. "What's that?" Nabooru replied. She lounged back on the cushions, her voice casual.

Too casual?

"What about the Sturrm Staer? You heard of that?"

A beat. "No." A broad smile spread over her face. She blew smoke in his direction. "Link, are you testing me?"

Link coughed as the smoke reached him. He waved it away impatiently.

She had seen straight through him. Heat prickled his cheeks once more. Best roll with it now. Knowing him, if he wasn't careful then he'd say something to make everything worse.

Link smiled back. "Ignore me. Everything's just gone to my head. The village. Saria. You know."

"I know." Her voice was soft. "I'd help you, but it probably wouldn't look too good. Me being a Gerudo and the Gerudo being responsible. You know that."

"I do."

"I'll keep an eye out."

So. Scavenger Red. It was a name. It gave his purpose a form. That's all he'd wanted from this meeting. He wondered if it would be fine for him to just up and leave now.

Probably not.

Twin jets of smoke puffed from Nabooru nose. The corners of her mouth drooped. "Poor Saria. She was complaining about you, you know. The last time I talked to the kid, that is. Said you hardly ever visit." Her smile was wry. "A common complaint, I've heard."

Link loved his friends, each and every one of them. He knew that. The warmth that flooded his heart when he thought of them was proof enough for that. He hoped they knew, too. He suspected so. And yet…he could only take them in small doses. It was all that…talking. He usually ran out of things to say very quickly, as though he could only draw from a parched and little-used well. Then the humiliation would creep up on him. He felt like he was on display, with everyone with their eyes on him.

Why so quiet? They'd always said, to which Link had always wanted to reply why so loud? He knew their words were not meant to wound but he always found himself disquieted nonetheless. It was worse whenever the princess invited him to the castle. Everything was so practised, so stiff. If a simple conversation was swordplay to Link, then a social function at the castle was like a full on battle. One from which he barely ever escaped unscathed.

Nabooru was used to him, though and didn't take offence at his silence. "Have you told the princess?"

Link shrugged. "She probably already knows."

A smoke-tinged breath flew from between pursed lips. "Then go talk to her anyway."

"She's the princess. She's…distant."

Nabooru shook her head. "Oh, please. She's just like you and me, Link. Uses a chamber pot just like us commoners. Granted, hers probably smells of violets and is made out of gold, but anyway…"

Link laughed. He took another sip of water, then asked, "Why doesn't she remember?"

Nabooru flicked him a lazy glance. "Why do you keep asking questions that have no answer?"

Link rose to his feet. "I have to go."

The Sage of Spirit raised an eyebrow. "So soon?" She watched him for a moment. "You just wanted to know about Drow's?"

Link nodded. "I was told it was a lead. Just wanted to make sure."

Nabooru sucked on her pipe. She wasn't going to press him to stay. "Told by whom?"

Link turned to leave. "You said you'll keep an eye out. I'm holding you to that."

Nabooru smiled as she shook her head. "It must be hard, you know."

Link stopped, glanced over his shoulder. "What must?"

Her eyes met his. Something dark swam in hers. "To be surrounded by all your friends and still feel so lonely."

Link broke contact first. As he strode off once again he realised that he had no answer to that.