"What do you mean the prisoner's gotten loose?" howled a copper-haired woman decked out in red silk. My stomach threatened to put holes in my boot soles. "What do you mean he's escaped?"
You have got to be kidding me! Practically growling in disbelief, I watched as the three women that made up my escort cringed, subtly attempting to sidestep their second-in-command's wrath. I had only let them capture me because I'd thought it was the most direct route to the kid – there was no way in hell I wanted to waste time trying to navigate the endlessly winding corridors, especially after inhaling half the desert on my way here. Between the sun and sand, I'd ended up dying of thirst and sweating like a Zora trapped in Death Mountain within the first few steps along the trail that descended from the broken bridge to the floor of the canyon, where the Gerudo Fortress sprawled; if I'd stayed outside any longer, I was fairly confident that I'd have just shriveled up. Dark Link jerky. Yum. So after dragging myself the last part of the hike through the Haunted Wasteland, I'd all but marched up to one of the women guarding the front entrance of the Desert Colossus and blown a big, wet raspberry in her face. And now, two of them had a death grip on my upper arms, and the crazy leader was spraying the lot of us with spittle from her raving. Trust the kid to wander off at the exact wrong moment.
"FIND HIM."
Around us, women scrambled to do their master's bidding, scampering down the hallway back the way we came, halberds held close to their chests and sheathed scimitars glinting in the firelight from the braziers along the sandstone walls. We continued down the narrow corridor with the copper-headed Gerudo breathing sparks down our necks. Annoyed at her presence, my only relief came in the form of the Arbiter's Grounds, ironically enough, after a curt word from Copper Head about putting me in the kid's former cell- Rounding a corner, the two holding me marched right through the room I recognized as one I'd almost died in way back when, and proceeded to drag me down a short flight of stairs to a room of sandstone cells with iron bars. There were four, one in each corner of the small room, all freestanding from one another but not from the walls. Between them burnt three braziers, and two more flanked the only exit. Copper Head directed the others in shoving me into the nearest unoccupied cell and slammed the door shut herself with a hearty creak of metal, her expression incredibly vicious.
"Later," she snarled. "You are mine."
"Sorry, but you're not my type," I quipped back at her with a nasty grin of my own.
She fumed a little, a distinct huff of rage escaping her bared teeth, before disappearing with her cronies. She might not have recognized me, but I sure as hell knew who she was – or at least, I remembered her misdeeds. I didn't know or couldn't remember her name, although that didn't particularly matter in the scheme of things. What did matter was that she'd been the one to find the kid loitering in the foyer when we'd first visited the Spirit Temple. This crazy Gerudo had one of those silk masks on at the time, and her clothes had definitely been a different color, but I'd have known that voice and attitude anywhere; she'd told the kid about some fancy pair of gauntlets hidden deep within the fortress, and that he could have them if he solved the puzzles in the rooms preceding the treasure. He'd taken the bait in a heartbeat, and before I could talk him out of the stupid endeavor, he'd stepped through a doorway revealed by the woman and off we'd gone to get ourselves charbroiled at no extra charge. Afterwards, there simply hadn't been time to explain that the misadventure had been an assassination attempt. There hadn't been any motivation either. He wouldn't have believed me in a million years.
The second she left the room, I dissolved through the bars and unsheathed my sword wearily, irritation burning a hole through my chest. When I get my hands on that kid... I thought threateningly, waiting a beat before reappearing in the atrium of the Arbiter's Grounds. I am going to strangle him with his own hat. But to do that, I'd have to find him first, and I had no idea where to look. He could be anywhere; I wouldn't be able to avoid searching the place top to bottom, given his penchant for trouble and that awful curiosity coursing through him. Farore. Goddesses help him when I laid hands on that brat. It didn't help that I only vaguely understood the circumstances leading up to and involving his imprisonment, or my encounter with Copper Head. Maybe after I found the kid, I'd drag him around by his ear until we found her, and then I'd give her a piece of my mind and maybe challenge her to a duel or something. She might not have known it, but the kid's shadow had been far from empty.
"Well, I don't think he'd head into the Arbiter's Grounds..." Turning, I scrutinized the gilded silver gate, observing how much nicer it looked when not covered in a few centuries' worth of grime and cobwebs and cast-off blood. Not nice enough to want to venture through it, of course, but admittedly a lot less creepy and foreboding than during my first visit. I really wanted to believe that the kid wasn't stupid enough to just frolic off through a gate like that, when it obviously led somewhere a little less than desirable- However, I grudgingly admitted that the kid would've wanted to get away from his captors, and after seeing for myself the veritable convention going down in the cross-legged statue room on the way here, that left the Arbiter's Grounds. He took the path less travelled. Damn him.
Muttering murderously to myself, I set off through the gates, transient, so as to avoid the oblivious women guarding my former prison, despair threatening to shake my concentration. I had a nagging suspicion that I'd find him in the Mirror Chamber. For some reason, that place just drew us – my past adventures aside. The first time we stumbled upon the place, I might or might not have bottled that stupid fairy of his and distracted the kid while a flying, fire-breathing mummy swooped down and almost fried us half to death. Call it karma, but all we took from the Desert Colossus was a good look at the Mirror and the knowledge that Navi served more of a purpose than twittering the obvious. Some magical instruction and a few complications in the well later, and I was with a certain princess in my home village rather than slinking around in a pint-sized hero's shadow. But I couldn't do anything about that now; I just needed to find the kid, and I was willing to bet fifty rupees I'd find him in that same room because it was where we'd left off, since there was no way in hell he'd tackle that well again, let alone by himself – and if I knew the kid at all, he would put two and two together and try to summon me or something ridiculous through the only artefact I'd personally confirmed as Twilit... as a definite connection to the guy who stole his very important sword. Good to know the kid possessed a few reasoning skills. And at least he had good timing, for once. Sort of.
I still harbored considerable reluctance when it came to revisiting the Mirror Chamber, of course. Only bad memories lived in there, whether they involved being roasted by an undead flame-thrower in this time, or being practically kidnapped by an insane imp-turned-princess in mine. Not that I had a choice, since I essentially brought this upon myself by ranting to the kid about how great and puzzling and infuriating the Mirror was – or at least, the magic associated with it, and how the Mirror acted as a portal between worlds. I had to find him before he tried touching the damn thing; I just hoped that nothing particularly nasty lurked in the chamber or on the way there this time around. I couldn't afford to waste time when, any second now, we could have another Dark Link on our hands if the kid kept up his inability to keep his hands to himself. And there were more than enough Links running around as it was without another Dark Link, too.
I cursed and took off up another short flight of stairs, sprinting through the semi-familiar corridors, now conspicuously unadorned by those awful spikes, and warmed instead with the golden glow of braziers along the sandstone walls and thick red tapestries. The blocks were straight and clean-cut and rougher than I knew, completely opposite the condition in my time, but the passages were just as devoid of life, unless I counted the spiders. The emptiness alone warranted more than a little confusion, but coupled with the women mobbing the statue-room, I began to grow suspicious of the Gerudo. Well, even more suspicious. I didn't understand why the kid was locked up in the first place – I only had Nabooru's word to go on until that errant comment about how the Colossus was turning into some kind of magnet for lost little boys. Despite being more than a little offended by the implication, keeping my mouth shut allowed me to eavesdrop on the women chattering back and forth about an annoying blond boy in forest clothes, with a tattoo of the symbol of their tribe on the inside of his wrist. They called it a fake and a mystery and the only reason why he was still alive- Everyone was so busy trying to understand the hows and whys behind the magical tattoo that the Gerudo couldn't come to an agreement about what to do with the kid, and so they locked him away. Fat lot of good that did them, since the kid lived by reverse psychology.
And so, here we were. Well, here I was, zigzagging as fast as I could through vaguely familiar tunnels I'd only ever travelled with a guide. Strangely enough, the only thing I had going for me was the distinct presence of the Mirror; when I focused, the heavy tendrils of shadowed magic curled around my awareness and produced something like tunnel-vision to the point where I kept stumbling into corners in my blind haste to reach the chamber and the deliciously certain promise of... something. Renewal? Discovery? Satisfaction? But what did I want this badly? Certainly not the kid. But goddesses, I couldn't deny the urgency fueling my flight because of the kid. This pursuit would be so much quicker if I could just pass through the walls, but the sheer force of magic permeating the place prevented me from even dissolving without considerable effort. Definitely wasn't this much magic the first time around, or even the second or third, I noted bitterly. Damn Gerudo upped the ante. Or, maybe I just hadn't been able to sense the then-fading traces that so heavily clung to the sandstone now. Either way, it didn't bode well. I'd recognized the magic in the atmosphere almost the second I'd stepped foot inside with the kid, but it hadn't been anywhere near this... lethal. Something just felt off. Wrong. Ominous. Just wonderful. I love ominous.
Growling slightly, I shoved off from yet another wall and staggered into a thick door I didn't remember being here. I stumbled backwards, confused, until a pointy green hat and troublesome blue eyes and some semblance of a purpose crashed back into my awareness... But before I could even reach for the doorknob, a small fist collided with my stomach and I hunched over, wheezing, readying myself to curse the sad son of a bitch, when someone whispered frantically, "D? What are you- D be quiet!"